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UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00022228616 


JOHN  SKALLY  TERRY 
MEMORIAL  COLLECTION 


© 


ESTABLISHED  BY 

THE  FAMILY  IN  HONOR  OF 

JOHN  S.  TERRY 

CLASS  OF  1918 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINA  LIBRARY 


L.1I 


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The  Scalp  Hunters 


A  THRILLING  TALE  OF 


ADVENTURE    AND    ROMANCE 


IN  NORTHERN  MEXICO 


BY 

CAPTAIN    MAYNE    REID 

AUTHOR  OF  "  THE  RIFLE  RANGERS  " 


NEW  YORK 

THE  F.  M.  LUPTON  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

1899 


Copyright  1899 
By  S.   C.  ANDREWS 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  The  Wild  West 5 

II.  The  Prairie  Merchants 12 

III.  "The  Prairie  Fever" 18 

IV.  A  Ride  upon  a  Buffalo  Bull 23 

V.  In  a  Bad  "  Fix  " 32 

VI.  Santa  Fe 41 

VII.  The  Fandango 49 

VIII.  Seguin  the  Scalp  Hunter 61 

IX.  Left  Behind 68 

X.  The  Del  Norte 75 

XL  The  "  Journey  of  Death," 81 

XII.  Zoe 91 

XIII.  Seguin 100 

XIV.  Love 105 

XV.  Light  and  Shade 112 

XVI.  An  Autobiography 119 

XVII  Up  the  Del  Norte 130 

XVIII.  Geography  and  Geology 138 

XIX.  The  Scalp-Hunters 145 

XX.  Sharpshooting 1 56 

XXI.  A  Feat  a  la  Tell 167 

XXII.  A  Feat  a  la  Tail 174 

XXIII.  The  Program 181 

XXIV.  El  Sol  and  La  Luna 188 

XXV.  The  War-Trail 195 

XXVI.  Three  Days  in  the  Trap 207 

XXVII.  The  Diggers 218 

XXVIII.  Dacoma 223 

XXIX.  A  Dinner  with  Two  Dishes 232 

XXX.  Blinding  the  Pursuer — A  Trapper's  Ruse 245 

XXXI.  A  Buffalo  "  Surround  " 255 

XXXII.  Another  "  Coup  " 265 

XXXIII.  A  Bitter  Trap 272 

iii 


594598 


IV  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER.  PAGE 

XXXIV.  The  Phantom  City 281 

XXXV.  The  Mountain  of  Gold 291 

XXXVI.  Navajoa 2o6 

XXXVII.  The  Night  Ambuscade 301 

XXXVIII.  Adele 307 

XXXIX.  The  White  Scalp 3I7 

XL.  The  Fight  in  the  Pass 329 

XLI.  The  Barranca 34! 


XLII.  The  Foe. 


349 


XLIII.  New  Misery 354 

XLIV.  The  Flag  of  Truce 361 

XLV.  A  Vexed  Treaty 368 

XLVI.  A  Conflict  with  closed  Doors 377 

XLVII.  A  Queer  Encounter  in  a  Cave 384 

XLVIII.  Smoked  out 392 

XLIX.  A  Novel  Mode  of  Equitation 397 

L.  A  Fast  Dye ; . .  401 

LI.  Astonishing  the  Natives 407 

LII.  Running  Amuck 414 

LII1.  A  Conflict  upon   a  Cliff 422 

LI V.  An  Unexpected  Rencontre 432 

LV.  The  Rescue 440 

LVI.  El  Paso  del  Norte 446 

LVII.  Touching  the  Chords  of  Memory 452 


THE  SCALP-HUNTERS. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE     WILD     WEST. 


wild  west, 
sun,    away 


^flNROLL  the  world's  map, 
and  look  upon  the  great 
northern  continent  of 
America.  Away  to  the 
iway  toward  the  setting 
beyond    many    a    far 


meridian,  let  your  eyes  wander. 
Rest  them  where  golden  rivers 
rise  among  peaks  that  carry  the 
eternal  snow.     Rest  them  there. 

You  are  looking  upon  a  land 
whose  features  are  unfurrowed 
by  human  hands,  still  bearing  the 
marks  of  the  Almighty  mold,  as  upon  the  morning  of 
creation  ;  a  region  whose  every  object  wears  the  impress  of 
God's  image.  His  ambient  spirit  lives  in  the  silent  grandeur 
of  its  mountains  and  speaks  in  the  roar  of  its  mighty  rivers  ; 


6  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

a  region  redolent  of  romance,  rich  in  the  reality  of  ad- 
venture. 

Follow  me,  with  the  eye  of  your  mind,  through  scenes  of 
wild  beauty,  of  savage  sublimity. 

I  stand  in  an  open  plain.  I  turn  my  face  to  the  north,  to 
the  south,  to  the  east,  and  to  the  west ;  and  on  all  sides  be- 
hold the  blue  circle  of  the  heavens  girdling  around  me. 
Nor  rock,  nor  tree,  breaks  the  ring  of  the  horizon.  What 
covers  the  broad  expanse  between  ?  Wood  ?  water  ?  grass  ? 
No  ;  flowers.  As  far  as  my  eye  can  range,  it  rests  only  on 
flowers,  on  beautiful  flowers  ! 

I  am  looking  as  on  a  tinted  map,  an  enameled  picture 
brilliant  with  every  hue  of  the  prism. 

Yonder  is  golden  yellow,  where  the  helianthus  turns  her 
dial-like  face  to  the  sun.  Yonder,  scarlet,  where  the 
malva  erects  its  red  banner.  Here  is  a  parterre  of  the 
purple  monarda,  there  the  euphorbia  sheds  its  silver  leaf. 
Yonder  the  orange  predominates  in  the  showy  flowers  of 
the  asclepia ;  and  beyond,  the  eye  roams  over  the  pink  blos- 
soms of  the  cleome. 

The  breeze  stirs  them.  Millions  of  corollas  are  waving 
their  gaudy  standards.  The  tall  stalks  of  the  helianthus 
bend  and  rise  in  long  undulations,  like  billows  on  a  golden 
sea. 

They  are  at  rest  again.  The  air  is  filled  with  odors  sweet 
as  the  perfumes  of  Araby  or  Ind.  Myriads  of  insects  flap 
their  gay  wings  :  flowers  of  themselves.  The  bee-birds  skirr 
around,  glancing  like  stray  sunbeams  ;  or,  poised  on  whir- 
ring wings,  drink  from  the  nectared  cups ;  and  the  wild  bee, 
with  laden  limbs,  clings  among  the  honeyed  pistils,  or  leaves 
for  his  far  hive  with  a  song  of  joy. 

Who  planted  these  flowers  ?  Who  hath  woven  them  into 
these  pictured  parterres  ?  Nature.  It  is  her  richest  mantle, 
richer  in  its  hues  than  the  scarfs  of  Cashmere. 


THE   WILD   WEST.  7 

This  is  the  "  weed  prairie."  It  is  misnamed.  It  is  the 
garden  of  God. 

The  scene  is  changed.  I  am  in  a  plain  as  before,  with 
the  unbroken  horizon  circling  around  me.  What  do  I  be- 
hold ?  Flowers  ?  No  ;  there  is  not  a  flower  in  sight,  but 
one  vast  expanse  of  living  verdure.  From  north  to  south, 
from  east  to  west,  stretches  the  prairie  meadow,  green  as  an 
emerald,  and  smooth  as  the  surface  of  a  sleeping  lake. 

The  wind  is  upon  its  bosom,  sweeping  the  silken  blades. 
They  are  in  motion  ;  and  the  verdure  is  dappled  into  lighter 
and  darker  shades,  as  the  shadows  of  summer  clouds  flitting 
across  the  sun. 

The  eye  wanders  without  resistance.  Perchance  it  en- 
counters the  dark  hirsute  forms  of  the  buffalo,  or  traces  the 
tiny  outlines  of  the  antelope.  Perchance  it  follows,  in 
pleased  wonder,  the  far-wild  gallop  of  a  snow-white  steed. 

This  is  the  "  grass  prairie,"  the  boundless  pasture  of  the 
bison. 

The  scene  changes.  The  earth  is  no  longer  level,  but 
treeless  and  verdant  as  ever.  Its  surface  exhibits  a  succes- 
sion of  parallel  undulations,  here  and  there  swelling  into 
smooth  round  hills.  It  is  covered  with  a  soft  turf  of  bril- 
liant greenness.  These  undulations  remind  one  of  the  ocean 
after  a  mighty  storm,  when  the  crisped  foam  has  died  upon 
the  waves,  and  the  big  swell  comes  bowling  in.  They  look 
as  though  they  had  once  been  such  waves,  that  by  an  omnip- 
otent mandate,  had  been  transformed  to  earth,  and  suddenly 
stood  still. 

This  is  the  "  rolling  prairie." 

Again  the  scene  changes.  I  am  among  greenswards  and 
bright  flowers  ;  but  the  view  is  broken  by  groves  and  clumps 


8  THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 

of  copse-wood.  The  frondage  is  varied,  its  tints  are  vivid, 
its  outlines  soft  and  graceful.  As  I  move  forward,  new 
landscapes  open  up  continuously  :  view  spark-like  and  pic- 
turesque. "  Gangs  "  of  buffalo,  "  herds  "  of  antelope,  and 
"  droves  "  of  wild  horses,  mottle  the  far  vistas.  Turkeys 
run  into  the  coppice,  and  pheasants  whirr  up  from  the  path. 

Where  are  the  owners  of  these  lands,  of  these  flocks  and 
fowls  ?  Where  are  the  houses,  the  palaces,  that  should  ap- 
pertain to  these  lordly  parks  ?  I  look  forward,  expecting  to 
see  the  turrets  of  tall  mansions  spring  up  over  the  groves. 
But  no.  For  hundreds  of  miles  around  no  chimney  sends 
forth  its  smoke.  Although  with  a  cultivated  aspect,  this 
region  is  only  trodden  by  the  mocassined  foot  of  the  hunter, 
and  his  enemy,  the  Red  Indian. 

These  are  the  "  mottes  " — the  "  islands  "  of  the  prairie 
sea. 

I  am  in  the  deep  forest.  It  is  night,  and  the  log  fire 
throws  out  its  vermilion  glare,  painting  the  objects  that  sur- 
round our  bivouac.  Huge  trunks  stand  thickly  around  us  ; 
and  massive  limbs,  gray  and  giant-like,  stretch  out  and  over. 
I  notice  the  bark.     It  is  cracked,  and  clings  in  broad  scales 

sping  outward.  Long  snake-like  parasites  creep  from 
tree  to  tree,  coiling  the  trunks  as  though  they  were  serpents, 
and  would  crush  them !  There  are  no  leaves  overhead. 
They  have  ripened  and  fallen  ;  but  the  white  Spanish  moss, 
festooned  along  the  branches,  hangs  weeping  down  like  the 
drapery  of  a  death-bed. 

Prostrate  trunks,  yards  in  diameter  and  half-decayed,  lie 
along  the  ground.  Their  ends  exhibit  vast  cavities,  where 
the  porcupine  and  opossum  have  taken  shelter  from  the  cold. 

My  comrades,  wrapped  in  their  blankets,  and  stretched 
upon  the  dead  leaves,  have  gone  to  sleep.  They  lie  with 
their  feet  to  the  fire,  and  their  heads  resting  in  the  hollow 


THE   WILD   WEST.  9 

of  their  saddles.  The  horses,  standing  around  a  tree,  and 
tied  to  its  lower  branches,  seem  also  to  sleep.  I  am  awake 
and  listening.  The  wind  is  high  up,  whistling  among  the 
twigs,  and  causing  the  long  white  streamers  to  oscillate.  It 
utters  a  wild  and  melancholy  music.  There  are  few  other 
sounds,  for  it  is  winter,  and  the  tree-frog  and  cicada  are 
silent.  I  hear  the  crackling  knots  in  the  fire,  the  rustling  of 
dry  leaves  "  swilled  "  up  by  a  stray  gust,  the  "  coo-whoo-a" 
of  the  white  owl,  the  bark  of  the  racoon,  and,  at  intervals, 
the  dismal  howling  of  wolves.  These  are  the  nocturnal 
voices  of  the  winter  forest.  They  are  savage  sounds  ;  yet 
there  is  a  chord  in  my  bosom  that  vibrates  under  their  in- 
fluence, and  my  spirit  is  tinged  with   romance  as   I  lie  and 

listen. 

******* 

The  forest  in  autumn  ;  still  bearing  its  full  frondage.  The 
leaves  resemble  flowers,  so  bright  are  their  hues.  They  are 
red  and  yellow,  and  golden  and  brown.  The  woods  are 
warm  and  glorious  now,  and  the  birds  flutter  among  the 
laden  branches.  The  eye  wanders  delighted  down  long 
vistas  and  over  sunlit  glades.  It  is  caught  by  the  flashing 
of  gaudy  plumage,  the  golden  green  of  the  paroquet,  the 
blue  of  the  jay,  and  the  orange  wing  of  the  oriole.  The  red- 
bird  flutters  lower  down  in  the  coppice  of  green  pawpaws* 
or  amidst  the  amber  leaflets  of  the  beechen  thicket.  Hun- 
dreds of  tiny  wings  flit  through  the  openings,  twinkling  in  the 
sun  like  the  glancing  of  gems. 

The  air  is  filled  with  music :  sweet  sounds  of  love.  The 
bark  of  the  squirrel,  the  cooing  of  mated  doves,  the  "  rat-ta- 
ta  "  of  the  pecker,  and  the  constant  and  measured  chirrup 
of  the  cicada,  are  all  ringing  together.  High  up,  on  a  top- 
most twig,  the  mocking-bird  pours  forth  his  mimic  note,  as 
though  he  would  shame  all  other  songsters  into  silence. 
******* 


10  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

I  am  in  a  country  of  brown  barren  earth  and  broken  out- 
lines. There  are  rocks  and  clefts  and  patches  of  sterile 
soil.  Strange  vegetable  forms  grow  in  the  clefts  and  hang 
over  the  rocks.  Others  are  spheroidal  in  shape,  resting 
upon  the  surface  of  the  parched  earth..  Others  rise  vertically 
to  a  great  height,  like  carved  and  fluted  columns.  Some 
throw  out  branches,  crooked,  shaggy  branches,  with  hirsute 
oval  leaves.  Yet  there  is  a  homogeneousness  about  all  these 
vegetable  forms,  in  their  color,  in  their  fruit  and  flowers, 
that  proclaims  them  of  one  family.  They  are  cacti.  It  is  a 
forest  of  the  Mexican  nopal.  Another  singular  plant  is  here. 
It  throws  out  long  thorny  leaves  that  curve  downward.  It 
is  the  agave,  the  far-famed  mezcal-plant  of  Mexico.  Here 
and  there,  mingling  with  the  cacti,  are  trees  of  acacia  and 
mezquite,  the  denizens  of  the  desert  land.  No  bright 
object  relieves  the  eye ;  no  bird  pours  its  melody  into  the 
ear.  The  lonely  owl  flaps  away  into  the  impassable  thicket, 
the  rattlesnake  glides  under  its  scanty  shade,  and  the  coyote 
skulks  through  its  silent  glades. 

I  have  climbed  mountain  after  mountain,  and  still  I  be- 
hold peaks  soaring  far  above,  crowned  with  the  snow  that 

ever  melts.      I    stand   upon  beetling  cliffs,  and  look  into 
sms  that  yawn  beneath,  sleeping  in  the  silence  of  desola- 

on.  Great  fragments  have  fallen  into  them,  and  lie  piled 
one  upon  another.  Others  hang  threatening  over,  as  if 
waiting  for  some  concussion  of  the  atmosphere  to  hurl  them 
from  their  balance.  Dark  precipices  frown  me  into  fear, 
and  my  head  reels  with  a  dizzy  faintness.  I  hold  by  the  pine- 
tree  shaft,  or  the  angle  of  the  firmer  rock. 

Above,  and  below,  and  around  me,  are  mountains  piled 
on  mountains  in  chaotic  confusion.  Some  are  bald  and 
bleak  ;  others  exhibit  traces  of  vegetation  in  the  dark  needles 
of  the  pine  and  cedar,  whose  stunted  forms  half-grown,  half- 
hang  from  the  cliffs.     Here,  a  cone-shaped  peak  soars  up  till 


nev 

r 

tion 


THE   WILD   WEST. 


II 


it  is  lost  in  snow  and  clouds.  There,  a  ridge  elevates  its 
sharp  outline  against  the  sky  ;  while  along  its  sides  lie  huge 
boulders  of  granite,  as  though  they  had  been  hurled  from 
the  hands  of  Titan  giants  ! 

A  fearful  monster,  the  grizzly  bear,  drags  his  body  along 
the  high  ridges  ;  the  carcajou  squats  upon  the  projecting 
rock,  waiting  the  elk  that  must  pass  to  the  water  below ;  and 
the  bighorn  bounds  from  crag  to  crag  in  search  of  his  shy 
mate.  Along  the  pine  branch  the  bald  buzzard  whets  his 
filthy  beak  ;  and  the  war-eagle,  soaring  over  all,  cuts  sharply 
against  the  blue  field  of  the  heavens. 

These  are  the  Rocky  Mountains,  the  American  Andes,  the 
colossal  vertebras  of  the  continent ! 

Such  are  the  aspects  of  the  wild  west ;  such  is  the  scenery 
of  our  drama. 

Let  us  raise  the  curtain,  and  bring  on  the  characters. 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE    PRAIRIE    MERCHANTS. 


"New  Orleans,  April  3d,  18 — ■ 
EAR  ST.  VRAIN, 

"  Our  young  friend,  M.  Henry 
Haller,  goes  to  St.  Louis  in  '  search 
of   the    picturesque.'     See  that  he 
be  put  through  a  '  regular  course  of  sprouts.' 

"  Yours, 

"  Luis  Walton. 

"  Charles  St.  Vrain,  Esq.,  Planters'  Hotel,  St.  Louis." 

With  this  laconic  epistle  in  my  waistcoat  pocket,  I  de- 
barked at  St.  Louis  on  the  10th  of  April,  and  drove  to  the 
"  Planters'." 

After  getting  my  baggage  stowed,  and  my  horse  (a  favorite 
I  had  brought  with  me)  stabled,  I  put  on  a  clean  shirt,  and, 
descending  to  the  office,  inquired  for  M.  St.  Vrain. 

He  was  not  there.  He  had  gone  up  the  Missouri  River 
several  days  before. 

This  was  a  disappointment,  as  I  had  brought  no  other 
introduction  to  St.  Louis.  But  I  endeavored  to  wait  with 
patience  the  return  of  M.  St.  Vrain.  He  was  expected  back 
in  less  than  a  week. 

m         12 


THE    PRAIRIE    MERCHANTS.  13 

Day  after  day  I  mounted  my  horse.  I  rode  up  to  the 
"  Mounds  "  and  out  upon  the  prairies.  I  lounged  about  the 
hotel,  and  smoked  my  cigar  in  its  fine  piazza.  I  drank 
"  sherry  cobblers  "  in  the  saloon,  and  read  the  journals  in 
the  "  reading-room." 

With  these  and  such  like  occupations  I  killed  time  for 
three  whole  days. 

There  was  a  party  of  gentlemen  stopping  at  the  hotel,  who 
seemed  to  know  each  other  well.  I  might  call  them  a  clique  ; 
but  that  is  not  a  good  word,  and  does  not  express  what  I 
mean.  They  appeared  rather  a  band  of  friendly,  jovial 
fellows.  They  strolled  together  through  the  streets,  and  sat 
side  by  side  at  the  table-d'hbte,  where  they  usually  remained 
long  after  the  regular  diners  had  retired.  I  noticed  that 
they  drank  the  most  expensive  wines,  and  smoked  the  finest 
cigars  the  house  afforded. 

My  attention  was  attracted  to  these  men.  I  was  struck 
with  their  peculiar  bearing  ;  their  erect,  Indian-like  carriage 
in  the  streets,  combined  with  a  boyish  gaiety,  so  characteris- 
tic of  the  western  American. 

They  dressed  nearly  alike  :  in  fine  black  cloth,  white  linen, 
satin  vests,  and  diamond  pins.  They  wore  the  whisker  full, 
but  smoothly  trimmed ;  and  several  of  them  sported  mus- 
taches. Their  hair  fell  curling  over  their  shoulders ;  and 
most  of  them  wore  their  collars  turned  down,  displaying 
healthy-looking,  sun-tanned  throats.  I  was  struck  with  a 
resemblance  in  their  physiognomy.  Their  faces  did  not 
resemble  each  other  ;  but  there  was  an  unmistakable  simi- 
larity in  the  expression  of  the  eye :  no  doubt,  the  mark  that 
had  been  made  by  like  occupations  and  experience. 

Were  they  sportsmen  ?  No  :  the  sportsman's  hands 
are  whiter  ;  there  is  more  jewelry  on  his  fingers  ;  his  waist- 
coat is  of  a  gayer  pattern,  and  altogether  his  dress  will  be 
more  gaudy  and   super-elegant.     Moreover,  the  sportsman 


14  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

lacks  that  air  of  free-and-easy  confidence.  He  dares  not 
assume  it.  He  may  live  in  the  hotel,  but  he  must  be  quiet 
and  unobtrusive.  The  sportsman  is  a  bird  of  prey ;  hence, 
like  all  birds  of  prey,  his  habits  are  silent,  and  solitary. 
They  are  not  of  his  profession. 

"  Who  are  these  gentlemen  ?  "  I  inquired  from  a  person 
who  sat  by  me — indicating  to  him  the  men  of  whom  I  have 
spoken. 

"  The  prairie  men." 

"  The  prairie  men  !  " 

"  Yes  :  the  Santa  Fe  traders." 

"  Traders  !  "  I  echoed,  in  some  surprise,  not  being  able 
to  connect  such  tlegants  with  any  ideas  of  trade  or  the  prairies. 

"  Yes,"  continued  my  informant.  "  That  large,  fine-look- 
ing man  in  the  middle  is  Bent — Bill  Bent,  as  he  is  called. 
The  gentleman  on  his  right  is  young  Sublette  ;  the  other, 
standing  on  his  left,  is  one  of  the  Choteaus  ;  and  that  is  the 
sober  Jerry  Folger." 

"  These,  then,  are  the  celebrated  prairie  merchants  ?  " 

"  Precisely  so." 

I  sat  eyeing  them  with  increased  curiosity.  I  observed 
that  they  were  looking  at  me,  and  that  I  was  the  subject  of 
their  conversation. 

Presently,  one  of  them,  a  dashing-like  young  fellow,  parted 
from  the  group,  and  walked  up  to  me. 

"  Were  you  inquiring  for  M.  St.  Vrain  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  was." 

"  Charles  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  name." 

"  I  am " 

I  pulled  out  my  note  of  introduction,  and  handed  it  to  the 
gentleman,  who  glanced  over  its  contents. 

"My  dear  friend,"  said  he,  grasping  me  cordially,  "ex- 
tremely sorry  I  have  not  been  here.     I  came  dowa  the  river 


THE   PRAIRIE   MERCHANTS.  15 

this  morning.  How  stupid  of  Walton  not  to  superscribe  to 
Bill  Bent !     How  long  have  you  been  up  ?  " 

"  Three  days.     I  arrived  on  the  10th." 

"  By  Jove !  you  are  lost.  Come,  let  me  make  you  ac- 
quainted.    Here,  Bent !  Bill !  Jerry ! " 

And  the  next  moment,  I  had  shaken  hands  with  one  and 
all  of  the  traders,  of  which  fraternity  I  found  that  my  new 
friend,  St.  Vrain,  was  a  member. 

"  First  gong  that  ?  "  asked  one,  as  the  loud  scream  of  a 
gong  came  through  the  gallery. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Bent,  consulting  his  watch.  "  Just  time 
to  'licker.'     Come  along  I  " 

Bent  moved  towards  the  cafe,  and  we  all  followed,  nemine 
dissentiente. 

The  spring  season  was  setting  in,  and  the  young  mint  had 
sprouted  :  a  botanical  fact  with  which  my  new  acquaintances 
appeared  to  be  familiar,  as  one  and  all  of  them  ordered  a 
"  mint  julep."  This  beverage,  in  the  mixing  and  drinking, 
occupied  our  time  until  the  second  scream  of  the  gong  sum- 
moned us  to  dinner. 

"  Sit  with  us,  Mr.  Haller,"  said  Bent ;  "  I  am  sorry  we 
didn't  know  you  sooner.     You  have  been  lonely." 

And  so  saying,  he  led  the  way  into  the  dining-room,  fol- 
lowed by  his  companions  and  myself. 

I  need  not  describe  a  dinner  at  the  "  Planters',"  with  its 
venison  steaks,  its  buffalo  tongues,  its  "  prairie  chickens," 
and  its  delicious  frog  "  fixings  "  from  the  Illinois  "  bottom." 
No ;  I  would  not  describe  the  dinner,  and  what  followed  I 
am  afraid  I  could  not. 

We  sat  until  we  had  the  table  to  ourselves.  Then  the 
cloth  was  removed,  and  we  commenced  smoking  regalias  and 
drinking  madeira  at  twelve  dollars  a  bottle !  This  was  or- 
dered in  by  some  one,  not  in  single  bottles,  but  by  the  half- 
dozen.     I  remember  thus  far  well  enough :  and  that,  when- 


l6  THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 

ever  I  took  up  a  wine-card  or  a  pencil,  these  articles  were 
snatched  out  of  my  fingers. 

I  remember  listening  to  stories  of  wild  adventures  among 
the  Pawnees,  and  the  Cumanches,  and  the  Blackfeet,  until  I 
was  filled  with  interest,  and  became  enthusiastic  about 
prairie-life.  Then  some  one  asked  me,  would  I  not  like  to 
join  them  in  "  a  trip  ? "  Upon  this  I  made  a  speech,  and 
proposed  to  accompany  my  new  acquaintances  on  their  next 
expedition ;  and  then  St.  Vrain  said  I  was  just  the  man  for 
their  life ;  and  this  pleased  me  highly.  Then  some  one 
sang  a  Spanish  song,  with  a  guitar,  I  think,  and  some  one 
else  danced  an  Indian  war-dance  ;  and  then  we  all  rose  to 
our  feet,  and  chorused  the  "  Star-spangled  Banner ;  "  and  I 
remember  nothing  else  after  this,  until  next  morning,  when 
I  remember  well  that  I  awoke  with  a  splitting  headache. 

I  had  hardly  time  to  reflect  on  my  previous  night's  folly 
when  the  door  opened,  and  St.  Vrain,  with  half  a  dozen  of 
my  table  companions,  rushed  into  the  room.  They  were 
followed  by  a  waiter  who  carried  several  large  glasses 
topped  with  ice,  and  filled  with  a  pale  amber-colored  liquid 

"  A  sherry  cobbler,  Mr.  Haller,"  cried  one  ;  "  best  thing  in 
the  world  for  you  :  drain  it,  my  boy.  It'll  cool  you  in  a 
squirrel's  jump." 

I  drank  off  the  refreshing  beverage  as  desired. 

"  Now,  my  dear  friend,"  said  St.  Vrain,  "  you  feel  a  hun- 
dred per  cent,  better  !  But,  tell  me,  were  you  in  earnest 
when  you  spoke  of  going  with  us  across  the  plains  ?  We 
start  in  a  week;  I  shall  be  sorry  to  part  with  you  so  soon." 

"  But  I  was  in  earnest.  I  am  going  with  you,  if  you  will 
only  show  me  how  I  am  to  set  about  it." 

"  Nothing  easier  :  buy  yourself  a  horse." 

"  I  have  got  one." 

"  Then  a  few  coarse  articles  of  dress,  a  rifle,  a  pair  of 
pistols,  a " 


THE    PRAIRIE    MERCHANTS.  17 

"  Stop,  stop  !  I  have  all  these  things.  That  is  not  what 
I  would  be  at,  but  this  : — You,  gentlemen,  carry  goods  to 
Santa  Fe\  You  double  or  treble  your  money  on  them.  Now, 
I  have  ten  thousand  dollars  in  a  bank  here.  What  should 
hinder  me  to  combine  profit  with  pleasure,  and  invest  it  as 
you  do  ?  " 

"  Nothing  ;  nothing !     A  good  idea,"  answered  several. 

"  Well,  then,  if  any  of  you  will  have  the  goodness  to  go 
with  me,  and  show  me  what  sort  of  merchandise  I  am  to  lay 
in  for  the  Santa  Fe  market,  I  will  pay  his  wine  bill  at  dinner, 
and  that's  no  small  commission,  I  think." 

The  prairie  men  laughed  loudly,  declaring  they  would  all 
go  a-shopping  with  me ;  and,  after  breakfast,  we  started  in  a 
body,  arm-in-arm. 

Before  dinner,  I  had  invested  nearly  all  my  disposable 
funds  in  printed  calicoes,  long  knives,  and  looking-glasses, 
etc.,  leaving  just  money  enough  to  purchase  mule-wagons 
and  hire  teamsters  at  Independence,  our  point  of  departure 
for  the  "  plains." 

A  few  day  after,  with  my  new  companions,  I  was  steam- 
ing it  up  the  Missouri,  on  our  way  to  the  trackless  prairies 
of  the  "  Far  West." 


Vaqueros  Lassoing  Wild  Horses. 


CHAPTER  III. 


"  THE  PRAIRIE  FEVER. 


FTER  a  week  spent  in 
Independence  buying 
mules     and     wagons, 
i  we  took  the  route  over 
the  plains.     There  were  a  hun- 
H  dred  wagons  in  the  "  caravan," 
I  and   nearly   twice  that  number 
of     teamsters    and    attendants. 
|||!  Two  of  the  capacious  vehicles 
contained    all   my    "  plunder  " ; 
and,  to  manage  them,  I  had  hired 
a  couple   of   lathy,   long-haired 
engaged    a    Canadian    voyageur 
named  Gode  as  a  sort  of  attendant  or  compagnon. 

Where  are  the  glossy  gentlemen  of  the  Planters'  Hotel  ? 
One  would  suppose  they  had  been  left  behind,  as  here  are 
18 


Missourians.     I   had   also 


"the  prairie  fever.  19 

none  but  men  in  hunting-shirts  and  slouch  hats.  Yes  ;  but 
under  these  hats  we  recognize  their  faces,  and  in  these  rude 
shirts  we  have  the  same  jovial  fellows  as  ever.  The  silky 
black  and  the  diamonds  have  disappeared,  for  now  the 
traders  flourish  under  the  prairie  costume.  I  will  endeavor 
to  give  an  idea  of  the  appearance  of  my  companions  by  de- 
scribing my  own  ;  for  I  am  "  tricked  out  "  very  much  like 
themselves. 

I  wear  a  hunting-shirt  of  dressed  deerskin.  It  is  a  garment 
more  after  the  style  of  an  ancient  tunic  than  anything  I  can 
think  of.  It  is  of  a  light  yellow  color,  beautifully  stitched 
and  embroidered ;  and  the  cape,  for  it  has  a  short  cape, 
is  fringed  by  tags  cut  out  of  the  leather  itself.  The  skirt  is 
also  bordered  by  a  similar  fringe,  and  hangs  full  and  low. 
A  pair  of  "  savers"  of  scarlet  cloth  cover  my  limbs  to  the 
thigh ;  and  under  these  are  strong  jean  pantaloons,  heavy 
boots,  and  big  brass  spurs.  A  colored  cotton  shirt,  a  blue 
neck-tie,  and  a  broad-brimmed  Guayaquil  hat,  complete  the 
articles  of  my  every-day  dress.  Behind  me,  on  the  cantle  of 
my  saddle,  may  be  observed  a  bright  red  object  folded  into  a 
cylindrical  form.  That  is  my  "  Mackinaw,"  a  great  favor- 
ite, for  it  makes  my  bed  by  night  and  my  great  coat  on 
other  occasions.  There  is  a  small  slit  in  the  middle  of  it, 
through  which  I  thrust  my  head  in  cold  or  rainy  weather  and 
I  am  thus  covered  to  the  ankles. 

As  I  have  said,  my  compagnons  de  voyage  are  similarly 
attired.  There  may  be  a  difference  of  color  in  the  blanket 
or  the  leggings,  or  the  shirt  may  be  of  other  materials  ;  but 
that  I  have  described  may  be  taken  as  a  "  character  dress." 

We  are  all  somewhat  similarly  armed  and  equipped.  For 
my  part,  I  may  say  that  I  am  "  armed  to  the  teeth."  In 
my  holsters  I  carry  a  pair  of  Colt's  large-sized  revolvers,  six 
shots  each.  In  my  belt  is  another  pair  of  the  small  size, 
with  five  shots  each.     In  addition,  I  have  a  light  rifle,  mak- 


20  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

ing  in  all  twenty-three  shots  which  I  have  learnt  to  de- 
liver in  as  many  seconds  of  time.  Failing  with  all  these, 
I  carry  in  my  belt  a  long  shining  blade  known  as  a  "  bowie 
knife."  This  last  is  my  hunting  knife,  my  dining  knife, 
and,  in  short,  my  knife  of  "  all  work."  For  accouterments 
I  have  a  pouch  and  a  flask,  both  slung  under  the  right 
arm.  I  have  also  a  large  gourd  canteen,  and  haversack 
for  my  rations.     So  have  all  my  companions. 

But  we  are  differently  mounted.  Some  ride  saddle  mules, 
other  bestride  mustangs,  while  a  few  have  brought  their 
favorite  American  horses.  I  am  of  this  number.  I  ride  a 
dark-brown  stallion  with  black  legs,  and  muzzle  like  the 
withered  fern.  He  is  a  half  Arab,  and  of  perfect  proportions. 
He  is  called  "  Moro,"  a  Spanish  name  given  him  by  the 
Louisiana  planter  from  whom  I  bought  him,  but  why  I  do 
not  know.  I  have  retained  the  name,  and  he  answers  to  it 
readily.  He  is  strong,  fleet,  and  beautiful.  Many  of  my 
friends  fancy  him  on  the  route,  and  offer  large  prices  for 
him ;  but  these  do  not  tempt  me,  for  my  Moro  serves  me 
well.  Every  day  I  grow  more  and  more  attached  to  him. 
My  dog  Alp,  a  St.  Bernard  that  I  bought  from  a  Swiss  emigre 
in  St.  Louis,  hardly  comes  in  for  a  tithe  of  my  affections. 

I  find  on  referring  to  my  note-book,  that  for  weeks  we 
traveled  over  the  prairies  without  any  incident  of  unusual  in- 
terest. To  me  the  scenery  was  interest  enough ;  and  I  do 
not  remember  a  more  striking  picture  than  to  see  the  long 
caravan  of  wagons,  the  "  prairie  ships,"  deployed  over  the 
plain,  or  crawling  slowly  up  some  gentle  slope,  their  white 
tilts  contrasting  beautifully  with  the  deep  green  of  the  earth. 
At  night,  too,  the  camp,  with  its  corralled -wagons,  and  horses 
picketed  around,  was  equally  a  picture.  The  scenery  was 
altogether  new  to  me,  and  imbued  me  with  impressions  of  a 
peculiar  character.  The  streams  were  fringed  with  tall 
groves   of   cottonwood   trees,  whose  column-like  stems  sup- 


1    THE    PRAIRIE    FEVER.  21 

ported  a  thick  frondage  of  silvery  leaves.  These  groves 
meeting  at  different  points,  walled  in  the  view,  so  dividing 
the  prairies  from  one  another  that  we  seemed  to  travel 
through  vast  fields  fenced  by  colossal  hedges. 

We  crossed  many  rivers,  fording  some,  and  floating  our 
wagons  over  others  that  were  deeper  and  wider.  Occa- 
sionally we  saw  deer  and  antelope,  and  our  hunters  shot  a  few 
of  these  ;  but  we  had  not  yet  reached  the  range  of  the  buffalo. 
Once  we  stopped  a  day  to  recruit  in  a  wooded  "  bottom," 
where  the  grass  was  plenty  and  the  water  pure.  Now  and 
then,  too,  we  were  halted  to  mend  a  broken  tongue  or  an  axle, 
or  help  a  "  stalled  "  wagon  from  its  miry  bed. 

I  had  very  little  trouble  with  my  particular  division  of  the 
caravan.  My  Missourians  turned  out  to  be  a  pair  of  staunch 
hands,  who  could  assist  one  another  without  making  a  des- 
perate affair  of  every  slight  accident. 

The  grass  had  sprung  up,  and  our  mules  and  oxen,  instead 
of  thinning  down,  every  day  grew  fatter  upon  it.  Moro 
therefore,  came  in  for  a  better  share  of  the  maize  that  I  had 
brought  in  my  wagons,  and  which  kept  my  favorite  in  fine 
traveling  condition. 

As  we  approached  the  Arkansas,  we  saw  mounted  Indians 
disappearing  over  the  swells.  They  were  Pawnees  ;  and  for 
several  days  clouds  of  these  dusky  warriors  hung  upon  the 
skirts  of  the  caravan.  But  they  knew  our  strength,  and  kept 
at  a  wary  distance  from  our  long  rifles. 

To  me  every  day  brought  something  new,  either  in 
the  incidents  of  the  "  voyage  "  or  the  features  of  the  land- 
scape. 

Gode,  who  had  been  by  turns  a  voyageur,  a  hunter,  a  trap- 
per, and  a  coureur  du  bois,  in  our  private  dialogues  had  given 
me  an  insight  into  many  an  item  of  prairie-craft,  thus  ena- 
bling me  to  cut  quite  a  respectable  figure  among  my  new  com- 
rades,    St.  Vrain,  too,  whose  frank,  generous  manner  had 


22  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

already  won  my  confidence,  spared  no  pains  to  make  the  trip 
agreeable  to  me.  What  with  gallops  by  day,  and  the  wilder 
tales  by  the  night  watch-fires,  I  became  intoxicated  with  the 
romance  of  my  new  life.     I  had  caught  the  "prairie-fever  J '" 

So  my  companions  told  me,  laughing.  I  did  not  under- 
stand them  then.  I  knew  what  they  meant  afterwards.  The 
prairie  fever  !  Yes.  I  was  just  then  in  process  of  being  in- 
oculated by  that  strange  disease.  It  grew  upon  me  apace. 
The  dreams  of  home  began  to  die  within  me ;  and  with 
these  the  illusory  ideas  of  many  a  young  and  foolish  ambition. 
Died  away,  too,  dead  out  of  my  heart,  the  allurements  of  the 
great  city,  the  memory  of  soft  eyes  and  silken  tresses,  the 
impress  of  amorous  emotions,  foes  to  human  happiness ;  all 
died  away,  as  if  they  had  never  been  or  I  had  never  felt  them! 

My  strength  increased,  both  physically  and  intellectually. 
I  experienced  a  buoyancy  of  spirits  and  a  vigor  of  body  I 
had  never  known  before.  I  felt  a  pleasure  in  action.  My 
blood  seemed  to  rush  warmer  and  swifter  through  my  veins, 
and  I  fancied  that  my  eyes  reached  to  a  more  distant  vision. 
I  could  look  boldly  upon  the  sun  without  quivering  in  my 
glance. 

Had  I  imbibed  a  portion  of  the  divine  essence  that  lives, 
and  moves,  and  has  its  being  in  those  vast  solitudes  ? 

Who  can  answer  this  ? 

The  prairie  fever  !  I  feel  it  now  !  Whilst  I  am  penning 
these  memories,  my  fingers  twitch  to  grasp  the  reins,  my 
knees  quiver  to  press  the  sides  of  my  noble  horse,  and  wildly 
wander  over  the  verdant  billows  of  the  prairie  sea  1 


Indian  Wampum  Belt. 


CHAPTER   IV. 


A  RIDE  UPON  A  BUFFALO  BULL. 


E  had  been  out  about  two  weeks  when 
we  struck  the  Arkansas  "  bend,"  about 
six  miles  below  the  "  Plum  Buttes." 
Here  our  wagons  corralled  and 
camped. 

So  far  we  had  seen  but  little  of  the 
buffalo ;  only  a  stray  bull,  or,  at  most 
two  or  three  together,  and  these  shy. 
It  was  now  the  "  running  season,"  but 
none  of  the  great  droves,  love-maddened,  had  crossed  us. 
"  Yonder  !  "  cried  St.  Vrain  ;  "  fresh  hump  for  supper  !  " 
We  looked  northwest,  as  indicated  by  our  friend.  Along 
the  escarpment  of  a  low  table,  five  dark  objects  broke  the 
line  of  the  horizon.  A  glance  was  enough  :  they  Were 
buffaloes. 

As  St.  Vrain  spoke,  we  were  about  slipping  off  our  saddles. 
Back  went  the  girth  buckles  with  a  "  sneck,"  down  came 
the  stirrups,  up  went  we,  and  off  in  the  "  twinkling  of  a 
goat's  eye." 

Half  a  score  or  so  started ;  some,  like  myself,  for  the 
sport ;  while  others,  old  hunters,  had  the  "  meat "  in  their 
eye. 

We  had  made  but  a  short  day's  march  ;  our  horses  were 
still  fresh,  and  in  three  times  as  many  minutes,  the  three 
miles  that  lay  between  us  and  the  game  were  reduced  to 

23 


24  the  scalp-hunters. 

one.  Here,  however,  we  were  "  winded."  Some  of  the 
party,  like  myself,  green  upon  the  prairies,  disregarding 
advice,  had  ridden  straight  ahead  ;  and  the  bulls  snuffed  us 
on  the  wind.  When  within  a  mile,  one  of  them  threw  up 
his  shaggy  front,  snorted,  struck  the  ground  with  his  hoof, 
rolled  over,  rose  up  again,  and  dashed  off  at  full  speed, 
followed  by  his  four  companions. 

It  remained  to  us  now  either  to  abandon  the  chase  or  put 
our  horses  to  their  mettle  and  "  catch  up."  The  latter 
course  was  adopted,  and  we  galloped  forward.  All  at  once 
we  found  ourselves  riding  up  to  what  appeared  to  be  a  clay 
wall,  six  feet  high.  It  was  a  stair  between  two  tables,  and 
ran  right  and  left  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  without  the 
semblance  of  a  gap. 

This  was  an  obstacle  that  caused  us  to  rein  up  and 
reflect.  Some  wheeled  their  horses,  and  commenced  riding 
back,  while  half  a  dozen  of  us,  better  mounted,  among 
whom  were  St.  Vrain  and  my  voyageur  Gode,  not  wishing 
to  give  up  the  chase  so  easily,  put  to  the  spur,  and  cleared 
the  scarp. 

From  this  point  it  cost  us  a  five  miles'  gallop,  and  our 
horses  a  white  sweat,  to  come  up  with  the  hindmost,  a  young 
cow,  which  fell,  bored  by  a  bullet  from  every  rifle  in  the  party. 

As  the  others  had  gained  some  distance  ahead,  and  we 
had  meat  enough  for  all,  we  reined  up,  and,  dismounting, 
set  about  "  removing  the  hair."  This  operation  was  a  short 
one  under  the  skilful  knives  of  the  hunters.  We  had  now 
leisure  to  look  back,  and  calculate  the  distance  we  had 
ridden  from  camp. 

"  Eight  miles,  every  inch !  "  cried  one. 

"  We're  close  to  the  trail,"  said  St.  Vrain,  pointing  to 
some  old  wagon  tracks  that  marked  the  route  of  the  Santa 
F6  traders. 

«  Well  ? " 


A    RIDE    UPON    A    BUFFALO    BULL.  2$ 

"  If  we  ride  into  camp,  we  shall  have  to  ride  back  in  the 
morning.     It  will  be  sixteen  extra  miles  for  our  cattle." 

"  True." 

"  Let  us  stay  here,  then.  Here's  water  and  grass.  There's 
buffalo  meat ;  and  yonder's  a  wagon  load  of  '  chips.'  We 
have  our  blankets  ;  what  more  do  we  want  ?  " 

"  I  say,  camp  where  we  are." 

"And  I." 

"And  I." 

In  a  minute  the  girth  buckles  flew  open,  our  saddles  were 
lifted  off,  and  our  panting  horses  were  cropping  the  curly 
bunches  of  the  prairie  grass,  within  the  circles  of  their 
cabriestos. 

A  crystal  rivulet,  the  "  arroyo  "  of  the  Spaniards,  stole 
away  southward  to  the  Arkansas.  On  the  bank  of  this  rivulet, 
and  under  one  of  its  bluffs,  we  chose  a  spot  for  our  bivouac. 
The  bois  de  vache  was  collected,  a  fire  was  kindled,  and 
"  hump  steaks,"  spitted  on  sticks,  were  soon  sputtering  in 
the  blaze.  Luckily,  St.  Vrain  and  I  had  our  flasks  along  ; 
and  as  each  of  them  contained  a  pint  of  pure  Cognac,  we 
managed  to  make  a  tolerable  supper.  The  old  hunters  had 
their  pipes  and  tobacco,  my  friend  and  I  our  cigars,  and  we 
sat  round  the  ashes  till  a  late  hour,  smoking  and  listening  to 
wild  tales  of  mountain  adventure. 

At  length  the  watch  was  told  off,  the  lariats  were  shortened, 
the  picket-pins  driven  home,  and  my  comrades,  rolling  them- 
selves up  in  their  blankets,  rested  their  heads  in  the  hollow 
of  their  saddles,  and  went  to  sleep. 

There  was  a  man  named  Hibbets  in  our  party,  who,  from 
his  habits  of  somnolency,  had  earned  the  soubriquet  of 
"Sleepy-head."  For  this  reason,  the  first  watch  had  been 
assigned  to  him,  being  the  least  dangerous,  as  Indians  seldom 
made  their  attacks  until  the  hour  of  soundest  sleep  :  that  be- 
fore daybreak. 


26  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

Hibbets  had  climbed  to  his  post,  the  top  of  the  bluff, 
where  he  could  command  a  view  of  the  surrounding  prairie. 

Before  night  had  set  in,  I  had  noticed  a  very  beautiful 
spot  on  the  bank  of  the  arroyo,  about  two  hundred  yards 
from  where  my  comrades  lay.  A  sudden  fancy  came  into 
my  head  to  sleep  there ;  and  taking  up  my  rifle,  robe,  and 
blanket,  at  the  same  time  calling  to  "  Sleepy-head  "  to  awake 
me  in  case  of  alarm,  I  proceeded  thither. 

The  ground,  shelving  gradually  down  to  the  arroyo,  was 
covered  with  soft  buffalo  grass,  thick  and  dry ;  as  good  a 
bed  as  was  ever  pressed  by  sleepy  mortal.  On  this  I  spread 
my  robe,  and  folding  my  blanket  around  me,  lay  down,  cigar 
in  mouth,  to  smoke  myself  asleep. 

It  was  a  lovely  moonlight,  so  clear  that  I  could  easily  dis- 
tinguish the  colors  of  the  prairie  flowers — the  silver  euphor- 
bias, the  golden  sunflowers,  and  the  scarlet  malvas,  that 
fringed  the  banks  of  the  arroyo  at  my  feet.  There  was  an 
enchanting  stillness  in  the  air,  broken  only  by  an  occa- 
sional whine  from  the  prairie  wolf,  the  distant  snoring  of  my 
companions,  and  the  "  crop,  crop  "  of  our  horses  shortening 
the  crisp  grass. 

I  lay  a  good  while  awake,  until  my  cigar  burnt  up  to  my 
lips,  we  smoke  them  close  on  the  prairies) ;  then,  spitting 
out  the  stump,  I  turned  over  on  my  side,  and  was  soon  in 
the  land  of  dreams. 

I  could  not  have  been  asleep  many  minutes  when  I  felt 
sensible  of  a  strange  noise,  like  distant  thunder,  or  the  roar- 
ing of  a  waterfall.  The  ground  seemed  to  tremble  beneath 
me. 

"  We  are  going  to  have  a  dash  of  a  thunder-shower," 
thought  I,  still  half  dreaming,  half  sensible  to  impressions 
from  without ;  and  I  drew  the  folds  of  my  blanket  closer 
about  me,  and  again  slept. 

I  was  awakened  by  a  noise  like  thunder — indeed,  like  the 


A   RIDE   UPON  A   BUFFALO   BULL.  27 

trampling  of  a  thousand  hoofs,  and  the  lowing  of  a  thousand 
oxen  !  The  earth  echoed  and  trembled.  I  could  hear  the 
shouts  of  my  comrades :  the  voices  of  St.  Vrain  and  Gode, 
the  latter  calling  out — 

"  Sacr-r-re  !   monsieur  ;  prenez  garde  des  buffles  !  " 

I  saw  that  they  had  drawn  the  horses,  and  were  hurrying 
them  under  the  bluff. 

I  sprang  to  my  feet,  flinging  aside  my  blanket.  A  fearful 
spectacle  was  before  me.  Away  to  the  west,  as  far  as  the 
eye  could  reach,  the  prairie  seemed  in  motion.  Black  waves 
rolled  over  its  undulating  outlines,  as  though  some  burning 
mountain  were  pouring  down  its  lava  upon  the  plains.  A 
thousand  bright  spots  flashed  and  flitted  along  the  moving 
surface  like  jets  of  fire.  The  ground  shook,  men  shouted, 
horses  reared  upon  their  ropes,  neighing  wildly.  My  dog 
barked  and  howled,  running  around  me ! 

For  a  moment  I  thought  I  was  dreaming ;  but  no,  the 
scene  was  too  real  to  be  mistaken  for  a  vision.  I  saw  the 
border  of  the  black  wave  within  ten  paces  of  me,  and  still 
approaching  1  Then,  and  not  till  then,  did  I  recognize  the 
shaggy   crests  and  glaring  eyeballs  of  the  buffalo  ! 

"  Oh,  God  ;  I  am  in  their  track.  I  shall  be  trampled  to 
death  !  " 

It  was  too  late  to  attempt  an  escape  by  running.  I  seized 
my  rifle  and  fired  at  the  foremost  of  the  band.  The  effect 
of  my  shot  was  not  perceptible.  The  water  of  the  arroyo 
was  dashed  in  my  face.  A  huge  bull  ahead  of  the  rest, 
furious  and  snorting,  plunged  through  the  stream  and  up  the 
slope.  I  was  lifted  and  tossed  high  into  the  air.  I  was 
thrown  rearwards,  and  fell  upon  a  moving  mass.  I  did  not 
feel  hurt  or  stunned.  I  felt  myself  carried  onward  upon  the 
backs  of  several  animals  that,  in  the  dense  drove,  ran 
close  together.  These,  frightened  at  their  strange  burden, 
bellowed  loudly,  and  dashed  on  to  the  front.     A  sudden 


28  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

thought  struck  me,  and,  fixing  on  that  which  was  most  under 
me,  I  dropped  my  legs  astride  of  him,  embracing  his  hump, 
and  clutching  the  long  woolly  hair  that  grew  upon  his  neck. 
The  animal  "  routed  "  with  extreme  terror,  and,  plunging 
forward,  soon  headed  the  band. 

This  was  exactly  what  I  wanted ;  and  on  we  went  over  the 
prairie,  the  bull  running  at  top  speed,  believing,  no  doubt,  that 
he  had  a  panther  or  a  catamount  between  his  shoulders. 

I  had  no  desire  to  disabuse  him  of  this  belief,  and,  lest  he 
should  deem  me  altogether  harmless,  and  come  to  a  halt,  I 
slipped  out  my  bowie,  which  happened  to  be  "  handy,"  and 
pricked  him  up  whenever  he  showed  symptoms  of  lagging. 
At  every  fresh  touch  of  the  "  spur  "  he  roared  out,  and  ran 
forward  at  a  redoubled  pace. 

My  danger  was  still  extreme.  The  drove  was  coming 
on  behind  with  the  front  of  nearly  a  mile.  I  could  not  have 
cleared  it  had  the  bull  stopped  and  left  me  on  the  prairie. 

Notwithstanding  the  peril  I  was  in,  I  could  not  resist 
laughing  at  my  ludicrous  situation.  I  felt  as  one  does  when 
looking  at  a  good  comedy. 

We  struck  through  a  village  of  "  prairie  dogs."  Here  I 
fancied  the  animal  was  about  to  turn  and  run  back,  This 
brought  my  mirth  to  a  sudden  pause  ;  but  the  buffalo  usually 
runs  in  a  "  bee-line,"  and  fortunately  mine  made  no  exception 
to  the  law.  On  he  went,  sinking  to  the  knees,  kicking  the 
dust  from  the  conical  hills,  snorting  and  bellowing  with  rage 
and  terror. 

The  "  Plum  Buttes  "  were  directly  in  the  line  of  our  course. 
I  had  seen  this  from  the  start,  and  knew  that  if  I  could 
reach  them  I  would  be  safe.  They  were  nearly  three  miles 
from  the  bluff  where  we  had  bivouacked,  but  in  my  ride  I 
fancied  them  ten. 

A  small  one  rose  over  the  prairie,  several  hundred  yards 
nearer  than  the  main  heights.     Towards  this  I  pricked  the 


A    RIDE    UPON   A    BUFFALO    BULL.  29 

foaming  bull  in  a  last  stretch,  and  he  brought  me  cleverly 
within  a  hundred  yards  of  its  base. 

It  was  now  time  to  take  leave  of  my  dusky  companion.  I 
could  have  slaughtered  him  as  I  leaned  over  his  back.  My 
knife  rested  upon  the  most  vulnerable  part  of  his  huge  body. 
No  !     I  would  not  have  slain  that  buffalo  for  the  Koh-i-noor. 

Untwisting  my  fingers  from  his  thick  fleece,  I  slipped  down 
over  his  tail,  and  without  as  much  as  saying  li  Good-night,  " 
ran  with  all  my  speed  towards  the  knoll.  I  climbed  up  ;  and 
sitting  down  upon  a  loose  boulder  of  rock,  looked  over  the 
prairie. 

The  moon  was  still  shining  brightly.  My  late  companion 
had  halted  not  far  from  where  I  had  left  him,  and  stood 
glaring  back  with  an  air  of  extreme  bewilderment.  There 
was  something  so  comical  in  the  sight  that  I  yelled  with 
laughter  as  I  sat  securely  on  my  perch. 

I  looked  to  the  southwest.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  see, 
the  prairie  was  black,  and  moving.  The  living  wave  came 
roiling  onward  and  toward  me  ;  but  I  could  now  observe  it 
in  safety.  The  myriads  of  glancing  eyes,  sparkling  like 
phosphoric  gleams,  no  longer  flashed  terror. 

The  drove  was  still  half  a  mile  distant.  I  thought  I  saw 
quick  gleams,  and  heard  the  report  of  fire-arms  away  over 
its  left  border  ;  but  I  could  not  be  certain.  I  had  begun  to 
think  of  the  fate  of  my  comrades,  and  this  gave  me  hopes 
that  they  were  safe. 

The  buffaloes  approached  the  butte  on  which  I  was  seated ; 
and,  perceiving  the  obstacle,  suddenly  forked  into  two  great 
belts,  and  swept  right  and  left  around  it.  What  struck  me 
at  this  moment  as  curious  was,  that  my  bull,  my  particular 
bull,  instead  of  waiting  till  his  comrades  had  come  up,  and 
falling  in  among  the  foremost,  suddenly  tossed  up  his  head, 
and  galloped  off  as  if  a  pack  of  wolves  had  been  after  him. 
He  ran  towards  the  outside  of  the  band.     When  he  had 


30  THE  SCALP-HUNTERS. 

reached  a  point  that  placed  him  fairly  beyond  the  flank,  I 
could  see  him  closing  in,  and  moving  on  with  the  rest. 

This  strange  tactic  of  my  late  companion  puzzled  me  at 
the  time,  but  I  afterwards  learned  that  it  was  sound  strategy 
on  his  part.  Had  he  remained  where  I  had  parted  with  him, 
the  foremost  bulls  coming  up  would  have  mistaken  him  for 
an  individual  of  some  other  tribe,  and  would  certainly  have 
gored  him  to  death. 

I  sat  upon  the  rock  for  nearly  two  hours,  silently  watching 
the  sable  stream  as  it  poured  past.  I  was  on  an  island  in 
the  midst  of  a  black  and  glittering  sea.  At  one  time  I 
fancied  I  was  moving,  that  the  butte  was  sailing  onward,  and 
the  buffaloes  were  standing  still.  My  head  swam  with  diz- 
ziness, and  I  leaped  to  my  feet  to  drive  away  the  strange 
illusion. 

The  torrent  rolled  onward,  and  at  length  the  hindmost 
went  straggling  past.  I  descended  from  the  knoll,  and  com- 
menced groping  my  way  over  the  black,  trodden  earth. 
What  was  lately  a  green  sward  now  presented  the  aspect  of 
ground  freshly  ploughed,  and  trampled  by  droves  of  oxen. 

A  number  of  white  animals,  resembling  a  flock  of  sheep, 
passed  near  me.  They  were  wolves  hanging  upon  the  skirts 
of  the  herd. 

I  pushed  on,  keeping  to  the  southward.  At  length  I  heard 
voices ;  and,  in  the  clear  moonlight,  could  see  several  horse- 
men galloping  in  circles  over  the  plain.  I  shouted  "  Halloa !  " 
A  voice  answered  mine,  and  one  of  the  horsemen  came 
galloping  up  ;  it  was  St.  Vrain. 

"  Why,  Lord  bless  me,  Haller !  "  cried  he,  reining  up,  and 
bending  from  his  saddle  to  get  a  better  view  of  me,  "  is  it 
you  or  your  ghost  ?  As  I  sit  here,  it's  the  man  himself,  and 
alive  !  " 

"  Never  in  better  condition,"  I  replied. 

"  But  where  did  you  come  from  ?  the  clouds  ?  the  sky  ? 


A   RIDE   UPON   A   BUFFALO   BULL.  3 1 

where  ?  "  And  his  questions  were  echoed  by  the  others, 
who  at  this  moment  were  shaking  me  by  the  hand,  as  if  they 
had  not  seen  me  for  a  twelvemonth. 

Gode  seemed  to  be  the  most  perplexed  man  of  the  party. 

"  Mon  Dieu  !  run  over  ;  tramp  by  von  million  cussed 
buffles,  et  ne  pas  mort !     'Cr-r-re  matin  !  " 

"  We  were  hunting  for  your  body,  or  rather,  the  fragments 
of  it,"  said  St.  Vrain.  "  We  had  searched  every  foot  of  the 
prairie  for  a  mile  round,  and  had  almost  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  fierce  brutes  had  eaten  you  up." 

"  Eat  monsieur  up !  No  !  tre  million  buffles  no  him  eat. 
Mon  Dieu  !     Ha,  Sleephead,  pe  hanged  !  " 

This  exclamation  of  the  Canadian  was  addressed  to  Hib- 
bets,  who  had  failed  to  warm  my  comrades  of  where  I  lay, 
and  thus  placed  me  in  such  a  dangerous  predicament. 

"  We  saw  you  tossed  in  the  air,"  continued  St.  Vrain, 
"  and  fall  right  into  the  thick  of  them.  Then,  of  course,  we 
gave  you  up.  But  how,  in  heaven's  name,  have  you  got 
clear  ? " 

I  related  my  adventure  to  my  wondering  comrades. 

"  Par  Dieu  /"  cried  Gode  "  un  gar  con  tres-bizarre :  une 
aventure  tres-merveilleuse  !  " 

From  that  hour  I  was  looked  upon  as  a  "  captain  "  on  the 
prairies. 

My  comrades  had  made  good  work  of  it,  as  a  dozen  dark 
objects  that  lay  upon  the  plain  testified.  They  had  found 
my  rifle  and  blankets,  the  latter  trodden  into  the  earth. 

St.  Vrain  had  still  a  few  drops  in  his  flask ;  and  after 
swallowing  these,  and  again  placing  the  guard,  we  returned 
to  our  prairie  couches  and  slept  out  the  night. 


CHAPTER  V. 

IN  A  BAD  "  FIX." 

FEW  days  afterwards, 
another  "  adventure  " 
befel  me ;  and  I  began 
^  to  think  that  I  was 
destined  to  become  a  hero  among 
the  "mountain  men.''  A  small 
party  of  traders,  myself  among 
the  number,  had  pushed  forward 
ahead  of  the  caravan.  Our  ob- 
ject was  to  arrive  at  Santa  Fe  a 
day  or  two  before  the  wagons,  in 
order  to  have  everything  arranged 
with  the  governor  for  their  entrance  into  that  capital.  We 
took  the  route  by  the  Cimmaron. 

Our  road,  for  a  hundred  miles  or  so,  lay  through  a  barren 
desert,  without  game,  and  almost  without  water.  The  buffalo 
had  already  disappeared,  and  deer  were  equally  scarce.  We 
had  to  content  ourselves  with  the  dried  meat  which  we  had 
brought  from  the  settlements.  We  were  in  the  deserts  of 
the  artemisia.  Now  and  then  we  could  see  a  stray  antelope 
bounding  away  before  us,  but  keeping  far  out  of  range.  They, 
too,  seemed  to  be  unusually  shy. 

On  the  third  day  after  leaving  the  caravan,  as  we  were 
riding  near  the  Cimmaron,  I  thought  I  observed  a  pronged 
head  disappearing  behind  a  swell  in  the  prairie.     My  com- 
32 


IN   A   BAD        FIX.  33 

panions  were  skeptical,  and  none  of  them  would  go  with  me  ; 
so,  wheeling  out  of  the  trail,  I  started  alone.  One  of  the 
men,  for  Gode  was  behind,  kept  charge  of  my  dog,  as  I  did 
not  choose  to  take  him  with  me,  lest  he  might  alarm  the 
antelopes.  My  horse  was  fresh  and  willing  ;  and  whether 
successful  or  not,  I  knew  that  I  could  easily  overtake  the 
party  by  camping-time. 

I  struck  directly  towards  the  spot  where  I  had  seen  the 
object.  It  appeared  to  be  only  half  a  mile  or  so  from  the 
trail.  It  proved  more  distant :  a  common  illusion  in  the 
crystal  atmosphere  of  these  upland  regions. 

A  curiously  formed  ridge,  a  coutcau  des prairies  on  a  small 
scale,  traversed  the  plain  from  east  to  west.  A  thicket  of 
cactus  covered  part  of  its  summit.  Towards  this  thicket  I 
directed  myself. 

I  dismounted  at  the  bottom  of  the  slope,  and  leading  my 
horse  silently  up  among  the  cacti  plants,  tied  him  to  one  of 
their  branches.  I  then  crept  cautiously  through  the  thorny 
leaves  towards  the  point  where  I  fancied  I  had  seen  the 
game.  To  my  joy,  not  one  antelope,  but  a  brace  of  those 
beautiful  animals  was  quietly  grazing  beyond  ;  but,  alas  !  too 
far  off  for  the  range  of  my  rifle.  They  were  fully  three 
hundred  yards  distant,  upon  a  smooth,  grassy  slope.  There 
was  not  even  a  sage  bush  to  cover  me,  should  I  attempt  to 
"  approach  "  them.     What  was  to  be  done  ? 

I  lay  for  several  minutes,  thinking  over  the  different  tricks 
known  in  hunter-craft  for  taking  the  antelope.  Should  I 
imitate  their  call  ?  Should  I  hoist  my  handkerchief,  and  try 
to  lure  them  up  ?  I  saw  that  they  were  too  shy  ;  for,  at  short 
intervals,  they  threw  up  their  graceful  heads  and  looked 
inquiringly  around  them.  I  remembered  the  red  blanket  on 
my  saddle.  I  could  display  this  upon  the  cactus  bushes  ; 
perhaps  it  would  attract  them. 

I  had  no  alternative,  and  was  turning  to  go  back  for  the 
3 


34  THE   SCALP- HUNTERS. 

blanket,  when,  all  at  once,  my  eye  rested  upon  a  clay-colored 
line  running  across  the  prairie  beyond  where  the  animals 
were  feeding.  It  was  a  break  in  the  surface  of  the  plain, 
a  buffalo  road,  or  the  channel  of  an  arroyo  ;  in  either  case  the 
very  cover  I  wanted,  for,  the  animals  were  not  a  hundred 
yards  from  it,  and  were  getting  still  nearer  to  it  as  they  fed. 

Creeping  back  out  of  the  thicket,I  ran  along  the  side  of 
the  slope  towards  a  point  where  I  had  noticed  that  the  ridge 
was  depressed  to  the  prairie  level.  Here,  to  my  surprise,  I 
found  myself  on  the  banks  of  a  broad  arroyo,  whose  water, 
clear  and  shallow,  ran  slowly  over  a  bed  of  sand  and  gypsum. 

The  banks  were  low,  not  over  three  feet  above  the  surface 
of  the  water,  except  where  the  ridge  impinged  upon  the  stream. 
Here  there  was  a  high  bluff  ;  and,  hurrying  round  its  base,  I 
entered  the  channel,  and  commenced  wading  upward. 

As  I  had  anticipated,  I  soon  came  to  a  bend  where  the 
stream,  after  running  parallel  to  the  ridge,  swept  round  and 
canoned  through  it.  At  this  place  I  stopped,  and  looked 
cautiously  over  the  bank.  The  antelopes  had  approached 
within  less  than  rifle  range  of  the  arroyo  ;  but  they  were  yet 
far  above  my  position.  They  were  still  quietly  feeding  and 
unconscious  of  danger.     I  again  bent  down,  and  waded  on. 

It  was  a  difficult  task  proceeding  in  this  way.  The  bed 
of  the  creek  was  soft  and  yielding,  and  I  was  compelled  to 
tread  slowly  and  silently  lest  I  should  alarm  the  game ;  but 
I  was  cheered  in  my  exertions  by  the  prospect  of  fresh  ven- 
ison for  my  supper. 

After  a  weary  drag  of  several  hundred  yards,  I  came  op- 
posite to  a  small  clump  of  wormwood  bushes  growing  out  of 
the  bank.  "  I  may  be  high  enough,"  thought  I ;  "  these  will 
serve  for  cover." 

I  raised  my  body  gradually  until  I  could  see  through  the 
leaves.     I  was  in  the  right  spot. 

I  brought  my  rifle  to  a  level,  sighted  for  the  heart  of  the 


IN  A   BAD   "  FIX."  35 

buck,  and  fired.  The  animal  leaped  from  the  ground,  and 
fell  back  lifeless. 

I  was  about  to  rush  forward  and  secure  my  prize,  when  I 
observed  the  doe,  instead  of  running  off  as  I  had  expected, 
go  up  to  her  fallen  partner  and  press  her  tapering  nose  to  his 
body.  She  was  not  more  than  twenty  yards  from  me  ;  and 
I  could  plainly  see  that  her  look  was  one  of  inquiry  and  be- 
wilderment. All  at  once  she  seemed  to  comprehend  the  fatal 
truth  ;  and  throwing  back  her  head,  commenced  uttering 
the  most  piteous  cries,  at  the  same  time  running  in  circles 
around  the  body. 

I  stood  wavering  between  two  minds.  My  first  impulse 
had  been  to  reload  and  kill  the  doe  ;  but  her  plaintive  voice 
entered  my  heart,  disarming  me  of  all  hostile  intentions- 
Had  I  dreamt  of  witnessing  this  painful  spectacle,  I  should 
not  have  left  the  trail.  But  the  mischief  was  now  done.  "  I 
have  worse  than  killed  her,"'  thought  I ;  "it  will  be  better  to 
despatch  her  at  once." 

Actuated  by  these  principles  of  a  common,  but  to  her  fatal, 
humanity,  I  rested  the  butt  of  my  rifle  and  reloaded.  With 
a  faltering  hand  I  again  leveled  the  piece  and  fired. 

My  nerves  were  steady  enough  to  do  the  work.  When  the 
smoke  floated  aside,  I  could  see  the  little  creature  bleeding 
upon  the  grass,  her  head  resting  against  the  body  of  her  mur- 
dered mate. 

I  shouldered  my  rifle,  and  was  about  to  move  forward, 
when,  to  my  astonishment,  I  found  that  I  was  caught  by  the 
feet.  I  was  held  firmly,  as  if  my  legs  had  been  screwed  in 
a  vice  ! 

I  made  an  effort  to  extricate  myself ;  another,  more  violent, 
and  equally  unsuccessful ;  and  with  a  third,  I  lost  my  balance, 
and  fell  back  upon  the  water. 

Half-suffocated,  I  regained  my  upright  position,  but  only 
to  find  that  I  was  held  as  fast  as  ever. 


36 


THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 


Again  I  struggled  to  free  my  limbs.  I  could  neither  move 
them  backward  nor  forward,  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left ;  and 
I  became  sensible  that  I  was  gradually  going  down.  Then 
the  fearful  truth  flashed  upon  me  :  /  was  sinking  in  a  quick- 
sand. 

A  feeling  of  horror  came  over  me.     I  renewed  my  efforts 


Indian  Chivalry  in  Mexico ;  Her  Lord  and  Master. 

with  the  energy  of  desperation.  I  leant  to  one  side  then  to 
the  other,  almost  wrenching  my  knees  from  their  sockets. 
My  feet  remained  fast  as  ever.  I  could  not  move  them  an 
inch. 

The  soft  clinging  sand  already  overtopped  my  horse- 
skin  boots,  wedging  them  around  my  ankles,  so  that  I  was 
unable  to  draw  them  off  ;   and  I  could  feel  that  I  was  still 


f  IN    A  BAD    "  FIX."  37" 

sinking,  slowly  but  surely,  as  though  some  subterranean  mon- 
ster were  leisurely  dragging  me  down  !  This  very  thought 
caused  me  a  fresh  thrill  of  horror,  and  I  called  aloud  for  help. 
To  whom  ?  There  was  no  one  within  miles  of  me  :  no  living 
thing.  Yes  !  the  neigh  of  my  horse  answered  me  from  the 
hills,  mocking  my  despair. 

I  bent  forward  as  well  as  my  constrained  position  would 
permit,  and,  with  frenzied  fingers,  commenced  tearing  up  the 
sand.  I  could  barely  reach  the  surface ;  and  the  little  hol- 
low I  was  able  to  make  filled  up  almost  as  soon  as  it  had 
been  formed. 

A  thought  occurred  to  me.  My  rifle  might  support  me 
placed  horizontally.  I  looked  around  for  it.  It  was  not  to 
be  seen.     It  had  sunk  beneath  the  sand. 

Could  I  throw  my  body  flat,  and  prevent  myself  from  sink- 
ing deeper  ?  No.  The  water  was  two  feet  in  depth.  I 
should  drown  at  once. 

This  last  hope  left  me  as  soon  as  formed.  I  could  think 
of  no  plan  to  save  myself.  I  could  make  no  further  effort. 
A  strange  stupor  seized  upon  me.  My  very  thoughts  became 
paralyzed.  I  knew  that  I  was  going  mad.  For  a  moment 
J  was  mad  ! 

After  an  interval  my  senses  returned.  I  made  an  effort 
to  rouse  my  mind  from  its  paralysis,  in  order  that  I  might  meet 
death,  which  I  now  believed  to  be  certain,  as  a  man  should. 

I  stood  erect.  My  eyes  had  sunk  to  the  prairie  level,  and 
rested  upon  the  still  bleeding  victims  of  my  cruelty.  My 
heart  smote  me  at  the  sight.  Was  I  suffering  a  retribution 
of  God  ? 

With  humble  and  penitent  thoughts  I  turned  my  face  to 
heaven,  almost  dreading  that  some  sign  of  omnipotent  anger 
would  scowl  upon  me  from  above.  But  no  !  The  sun  was 
shining  as  brightly  as  ever,  and  the  blue  canopy  of  the  world 
was  without  a  cloud. 


38  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

I  gazed  upward,  and  prayed  with  an  earnestness  known  only 
to  the  hearts  of  men  in  positions  of  peril  like  mine. 

As  I  continued  to  look  up,  an  object  attracted  my  attention.1 
Against  the  sky  I  distinguished  the  outlines  of  a  large  bird. 
I  knew  it  to  be  the  obscene  bird  of  the  plains  the  buzzard 
vulture.  Whence  had  it  come  ?  Who  knows  ?  Far  beyond 
the  reach  of  human  eye  it  had  seen  or  scented  the  slaughtered 
antelopes,  and  on  broad  silent  wing  was  now  descending  to 
the  feast  of  death. 

Presently  another,  and  another,  and  many  others,  mottled 
the  blue  field  of  the  heavens,  curving  and  wheeling  silently 
earthward.  Then  the  foremost  swooped  down  upon  the 
bank,  and  after  gazing  around  for  a  moment,  flapped  off 
towards  its  prey. 

In  a  few  seconds  the  prairie  was  black  with  filthy  birds, 
which  clambered  over  the  dead  antelopes,  and  beat  their 
wings  against  each  other,  while  they  tore  out  the  eyes  of  the 
quarry  with  their  fetid  beaks. 

And  now  came  gaunt  wolves,  sneaking  and  hungry,  steal- 
ing out  of  the  cactus  thicket,  and  loping,  coward-like,  over 
the  green  swells  of  the  prairie.  These,  after  a  battle,  drove 
away  the  vultures,  and  tore  up  the  prey,  all  the  while  growl- 
ing and  snapping  vengefully  at  each  other. 

"  Thank  heaven  I     I  shall  at  least  be  saved  from  this  !  " 

I  was  soon  relieved  from  the  sight.  My  eyes  had  sunk 
below  the  level  of  the  bank.  I  had  looked  my  last  on  the 
fair  green  earth.  I  could  now  see  only  the  clayey  walls  that 
contained  the  river,  and  the  water  that  ran  unheeding  by  me. 

Once  more  I  fixed  my  gaze  upon  the  sky,  and  with  prayer- 
ful heart  endeavored  to  resign  myself  to  my  fate. 

In  spite  of  my  efforts  to  be  calm,  the  memories  of  earthly 
pleasures,  and  friends,  and  home,  came  over  me,  causing  me, 
at  intervals,  to  break  into  wild  paroxysms,  and  make  fresh 
though  fruitless  struggles. 


IN     A     BAD        FIX.  39 

Again  I  was  attracted  by  the  neighing  of  my  horse. 

A  thought  entered  my  mind,  filling  me  with  fresh  hopes. 
"  Perhaps  my  horse " 

I  lost  not  a  moment.  I  raised  my  voice  to  its  highest  pitch, 
and  called  the  animal  by  name.  I  knew  that  he  would  come 
at  my  call.  I  had  tied  him  but  slightly.  The  cactus  limb 
would  snap  off.  I  called  again,  repeating  words  that  were 
well  known  to  him.  I  listened  with  a  bounding  heart.  For 
a  moment  there  was  silence.  Then  I  heard  the  quick  sound 
of  his  hoofs,  as  though  the  animal  were  rearing  and  strug- 
gling to  free  himself.  Then  I  could  distinguish  the  stroke  of 
his  heels  in  a  measured  and  regular  gallop. 

Nearer  came  the  sounds  ;  nearer  and  clearer,  until  the  gal- 
lant brute  appeared  upon  the  bank  above  me.  There  he 
halted,  and  flinging  back  his  tossed  mane,  uttered  a  shrill 
neigh.  He  was  bewildered,  and  looked  to  every  side,  snorting 
loudly. 

I  knew  that  having  once  seen  me  he  would  not  stop  until 
he  had  pressed  his  nose  against  my  cheek,  for  this  was  his 
usual  custom.  Holding  out  my  hands,  I  again  uttered  the 
magic  words. 

Now  glancing  downward  he  perceived  me,  and  stretching 
himself,  sprang  out  into  the  channel.  The  next  moment  I 
held  him  by  the  bridle. 

There  was  no  time  to  be  lost.  I  was  still  going  down  ; 
and  my  armpits  were  fast  nearing  the  surface  of  the  quick- 
sand. 

I  caught  the  lariat,  and  passing  it  under  the  saddlegirths, 
fastened  it  in  a  tight,  firm  knot.  I  then  looped  the  trailing 
end,  making  it  secure  around  my  body.  I  had  left  enough 
of  the  rope,  between  the  bit-ring  and  the  girths,  to  enable  me 
to  check  and  guide  the  animal,  in  case  the  drag  upon  my 
body  should  be  too  painful. 

All  this  while  the  dumb  brute  seemed  to  comprehend  what 


40  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

I  was  about.  He  knew,  too,  the  nature  of  the  ground  on 
which  he  stood,  for  during  the  operation  he  kept  lifting  his 
feet  alternately  to  prevent  himself  from  sinking. 

My  arrangements  were  at  length  completed  ;  and  with  a 
feeling  of  terrible  anxiety,  I  gave  my  horse  the  signal  to  move 
forward.  Instead  of  going  off  with  a  start,  the  intelligent  ani- 
mal stepped  away  slowly,  as  though  he  understood  my  situa- 
tion. The  lariat  tightened,  I  felt  my  body  moving,  and  the 
next  moment  experienced  a  wild  delight,  a  feeling  I  cannot 
describe,  as  I  found  myself  dragged  out  of  the  sand  ! 

I  sprang  to  my  feet  with  a  shout  of  joy.  I  rushed  up  to 
my  steed,  and  throwing  my  arms  around  his  neck,  kissed 
him  with  as  much  delight  as  I  would  have  kissed  a  beautiful 
girl.  He  answered  my  embrace  with  a  low  whimper,  that 
told  me  I  was  understood. 

I  looked  for  my  rifle.  Fortunately  it  had  not  sunk  deeply, 
and  I  soon  found  it.  My  boots  were  behind  me,  but  I  stayed 
not  to  look  for  them,  being  smitten  with  a  wholesome  dread 
of  the  place  where  I  had  left  them. 

I  was  not  long  in  retreating  from  the  arroyo ;  and  mount- 
ing, I  galloped  back  to  the  trail. 

It  was  sundown  before  I  reached  camp,  where  I  was  met 
by  the  inquiries  of  my  wondering  companions.  "  Did 
you  come  across  the  '  goats  '  ?  "  "  Where's  your  boots  ?  " 
"  Whether  have  you  been  hunting  or  fishing  ?  " 

I  answered  all  these  questions  by  relating  my  adventures  ; 
and  that  night  I  was  again  the  hero  of  the  camp-fire. 


Taking  Solid  Comfort :  Smoking  out  Mosquitoes. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


SANTA    Ft. 


FTER  a  week's  climb- 
ing through  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  we  descend- 
-  ed  into  the  valley  of  the 


Del  Norte',  and  arrived  at  the 
capital  of  New  Mexico,  the  far- 
famed  Santa  Fe.  Next  day  the 
caravan  itself  came  in,  for  we  had 
lost  time  on  the  southern  route  ;  and  the  wagons  traveling 
by  the  Raton  Pass,  had  made  a  good  journey  of  it. 

We  had  no  difficulty  about  their  entrance  into  the  country, 

with  the  proviso  that  we  paid  five  hundred  dollars  of  Alcavala 

tax  upon  each  wagon.     This  was  a  greater  extortion  than 

usual ;  but  the  traders  were  compelled  to  accept  the  impost. 

Santa  Fe  is  the  entrepot  of  the  province,  and  the  chief 

4i 


42  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

seat  of  its  trade.  On  reaching  it  we  halted,  "camping" 
without  the  walls. 

St.  Vrain,  several  other  proprietaires,  and  myself  took 
up  our  quarters  at  the  Fonda,  where  we  endeavored,  by 
means  of  the  sparkling  vintage  of  El  Paso,  to  make  ourselves 
oblivous  of  the  hardships  we  had  endured  in  the  passage  of  the 
plains. 

The  night  of  our  arrival  was  given  to  feasting  and  making 
merry. 

Next  morning  I  was  awakened  by  the  voice  of  my  man 
Gode  who  appeared  to  be  in  high  spirits,  singing  a  snatch  of 
a  Canadian  boat-song. 

"  Ah,  monsieur !  "  cried  he,  seeing  me  awake,  "  to-night 
— aujourd'hui — une  grande  fonction — one  bal — vat  le  cussed 
Mexicain  he  call  fandango.  Tres  bien,  monsieur.  You  vill 
sure  have  grand  plaisir  to  see  un  fandango  Mexicain  ? " 

"  Not  I,  Gode.  My  countrymen  are  not  so  fond  of  danc- 
ing as  yours." 

"  C'est  vrai,  monsieur  ;  but  von  fandango  is  tres  curieux. 
You  sail  see  ver  many  sort  of  de  pas.  Bolero,  et  valse,  wis 
de  Coona,  and  ver  many  more  pas,  all  mix  up  in  von  puchero. 
Allons  !  monsieur,  you  vill  see  ver  many  pretty  girl,  avec  les 
yeux  tres  noir,  and  ver  short — ah,  pe  Gar  !  ver  short — vat 
you  call  em  in  Americaine  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  allude  to." 

"  Celk  1  Zis,  monsieur,"  holding  out  the  skirt  of  his  hunt- 
ing-shirt ;  "  par  Dieu  1  now  I  have  him — petticoes  :  ver  short 
petticoes.  Ah,  pe  Gar  !  you  sail  see  vat  you  sail  see  en 
un  fandango  Mexicaine. 

'Lasninas  de  Durango 
Conmigo  bailandas, 
Al  cielo  saltandas, 
En  el  fandango — en  el  fan-dang — o.' 

"  Ha  1  here  comes  Monsieur  St.  Vrain.     Ecoutez  1     He 


SANTA    FE.  43 

never  not  go  to  fandango.  Parbleu  !  how  monsieur  dance  1 
like  un  maitre  de  ballet.  Mais  he  be  de  sangre — blood 
Fran£ais.     Ecoutez ! 

'  Al  cielo  saltandas, 

En  el  fandango — en  el  fan-dang ' " 

"Ha!  Gode!" 

"  Monsieur  ? " 

"  Trot  over  to  the  cantina,  and  beg,  borrow,  buy,  or  steal 
a  bottle  of  the  best  Paso." 

"  Sail  I  try  steal  'im,  Monsieur  St.  Vrain  ?  "  inquired 
Gode,  with  a  knowing  grin. 

"  No,  you  old  Canadian  thief  !  pay  for  it.  There's  the 
money.  Best  Paso,  do  you  hear  ? — cool  and  sparkling.  Now, 
vaya  !  Bon  jour,  my  bold  rider  of  buffalo  bulls  1  Still  abed, 
I  see." 

"  My  head  aches  as  if  it  would  split." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  so  does  mine  ;  but  Gode's  gone  for  medi- 
cine. Hair  of  the  dog  good  for  the  bite.  Come,  jump 
up!" 

"Wait  till  I  get  a  dose  of  your  medicine." 

'•True;  you  will  feel  better  then.  I  say:  city  life  don't 
agree  with  us,  eh  ?  " 

"  You  call  this  a  city,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Ay,  so  it  is  styled  in  these  parts  ;  la  ciudad  de  Santa  Fe  ; 
the  famous  city  of  Santa  Fe  ;  the  capital  of  Nuevo  Mexico  ; 
the  metropolis  of  all  prairiedom  ;  the  paradise  of  traders, 
trappers,  and  thieves  !  " 

"  And  this  is  the  progress  of  three  hundred  years  !  Why, 
these  people  have  hardly  passed  the  first  stages  of  civiliza- 
tion." 

"  Rather  say  they  are  passing  the  last  stages  of  it.  Here, 
on  this  fair  oasis,  you  will  find  painting,  poetry,  dancing, 
theaters,  and  music,  fetes  and  fireworks,  with  all  the  little 


44  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

amorous  arts  that  characterize  a  nation's  decline.  You  will 
meet  with  numerous  Don  Quixotes,  soi-disa?it  knights-errant, 
Romeos  without  the  heart,  and  ruffians,  without  the  courage. 
You  will  meet  with  many  things  before  you  encounter  either 
virtue  or  honesty,     Hola  !  muchacho  !  " 

"  Que  es,  sehor  ?  " 

"  Hay  cafe'  ? " 

"  Si,  senor." 

"  Bring  us  a  couple  of  tazas,  then — dos  tazas,  do  you  hear  ? 
and  quick — aprisa  !  aprisa  /" 

"  Si,  sehor." 

"  Ha !  here  comes  le  voyageur  Canadien.  So,  old  Nor'- 
west !  you've  brought  the  wine  ?  " 

"  Vin  delicieux,  Monsieur  St.  Vrain  !  equal  to  ze  vintage 
Francais." 

"  He  is  right,  Haller  !  Tsap— tsap  ! — delicious  you  may 
say,  good  Gode.  Tsap — tsap  1  Come,  drink !  it'll  make 
you  feel  as  strong  as  a  buffalo.  See  !  it  seethes  like  a  soda 
spring !  like  Fo?itaine-qui-bouiIle :  eh,  Gode  ?  " 

"  Oui,  monsieur ;  ver  like  Fontaine-qui-bouille.  Pe  Gar  ! 
oui." 

"  Drink,  man,  drink  !  Don't  fear  it :  it's  the  pure  juice. 
Smell  the  flavor  ;  taste  the  bouquet.  Jerusalem  !  what  wine 
the  Yankees  will  one  day  squeeze  out  of  these  New  Mexican 
grapes  ! " 

"  Why  ?  Do  you  think  the  Yankees  have  an  eye  to  this 
quarter  ?  " 

"  Think  1  I  know  it ;  and  why  not  ?  What  use  are  these 
manikins  in  creation  ?  Only  to  cumber  the  earth.  Well, 
mozo,  you  have  brought  the  coffee  ?  " 

"  Ya,  esta,  senor." 

"  Here  1  try  some  of  this  :  it  will  help  to  set  you  on  your 
feet.  They  can  make  coffee,  and  no  mistake.  It  takes  a 
Spaniard  to  do  that." 


SANTA    FE.  45 

"  What  is  this  fandango  Gode  has  been  telling  me 
about  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  true.  We  are  to  have  a  famous  one  to-night. 
You'll  go,  of  course  ?  " 

"  Out  of  curiosity." 

"  Very  well ;  you  will  have  your  curiosity  gratified.  The 
blustering  old  grampus  of  a  governor  is  to  honor  the  ball 
with  his  presence  ;  and,  it  is  said,  his  pretty  sehora ;  that  I 
don't  believe. 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  He's  too  much  afraid  lest  one  of  these  wild  Americanos 
might  whip  her  off  on  the  cantle  of  his  saddle.  Such  things 
have  been  done  in  this  very  valley.  By  the  gods  !  she  is. 
good-looking,"  continued  St.  Vrain,  in  a  half  soliloquy,  "  and 
I  knew  a  man the  cursed  old  tyrant  !  only  think  of  it  1  " 

"  Of  what  ?  " 

"  The  way  he  has  bled  us.  Five  hundred  dollars  a  wag- 
on, and  a  hundred  of  them  at  that :  in  all  fifty  thousand 
dollars  ? " 

"  But  will  he  pocket  all  this  ?  Will  not  the  govern- 
ment  ?  " 

"  Government !  no,  every  cent  of  it.  He  is  the  govern- 
ment here ;  and,  with  the  help  of  this  instalment,  he  will  rule 
these  miserable  wretches,  with  an  iron  rod.     Poor  devils !  " 

"  And  yet  they  hate  him,  do  they  not  ?  " 

"  Him  and  his.     God  knows  they  have  reason  " 

"  It  is  strange  they  do  not  rebel." 

"  They  have  at  times  ;  but  what  can  the  poor  devils  do  ? 
Like  all  true  tyrants,  he  has  divided  them,  and  makes  them 
spend  their  hearts'  hatred  on  one  another." 

"  But  he  seems  not  to  have  a  very  large  army ;  no  body- 
guard  " 

"  Body-guard  !  "  cried  St.  Vrain,  interrupting  me  ;  "  look 
out  1  there's  his  body-guard  1 " 


46  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  Indios  bravos  !  les  Navajoes  I "  exclaimed  Godd,  at  the 
same  instant. 

I  looked  forth  into  the  street.  Half  a  dozen  tall  savages, 
wrapped  in  striped  seraph,  were  passing.  Their  wild  hun- 
gry looks,  and  slow,  proud  walk  at  once  distinguished  them 
from  Indios  manzos :  the  water-drawing,  wood-hewing  pueblos. 

"  Are  they  Navajoes  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Oui,  monsieur,  oui !  "  replied  Gode',  apparently  with 
some  excitement.  Mon  Gracieuse  !  Navajoes  1  tres  cussed 
Navajoes !  " 

"  There's  no  mistaking  them,"  added  St.  Vrain. 

"  But  the  Navajoes  are  the  notorious  enemies  of  the  New 
Mexicans  !     How  come  they  to  be  here  ?     Prisoners  ? " 

"  Do  they  look  like  prisoners  ?  " 

They  certainly  showed  no  signs  of  captivity  in  either  look 
or  gesture.  They  strode  proudly  up  the  street,  occasionally 
glancing  at  the  passers  with  an  air  of  savage  and  lordly  con- 
tempt. 

"  Why,  then,  are  they  here  ?  Their  country  lies  far  to  the 
west." 

"  That  is  one  of  the  secrets  of  Nuevo  Mexico,  about 
which  I  will  enlighten  you  some  other  time.  They  are  now 
protected  by  a  treaty  of  peace,  which  is  only  binding  upon 
them  so  long  as  it  may  suit  their  convenience  to  recognize  it. 
At  present  they  are  as  free  here  as  you  or  I ;  indeed,  more 
so,  when  it  comes  to  that.  I  wouldn't  wonder  if  we  were 
to  meet  them  at  the  fandango  to-night." 

"  I  have  heard  that  the  Navajoes  are  cannibals." 

"  It  is  true.  Look  at  them  this  minute  1  See  how  they 
gloat  upon  that  chubby  little  fellow,  who  seems  instinctively 
to  fear  them.  Lucky  for  the  urchin  it's  broad  daylight, 
or  he  might  get  chucked  under  one  of  those  striped 
blankets." 

"  Are  you  in  earnest,  St.  Vrain  ?  " 


SANTA   FE.  47 

"  By  my  word,  I  am  not  jesting !  If  I  mistake  not, 
Gode's  experience  will  confirm  what  I  have,  said.  Eh, 
voyageur  ? " 

"  C'est  vrai,  monsieur.  I  vas  prisonnier  in  le  nation  ; 
not  Navagh,  but  le  cussed  Apache — moch  de  same — pour 
tree  mons.  I  have  less  sauvages  seen  manger — eat — one — 
deux — tree — tree  enfants  rotis,  like  hump  rib  of  de  buffles. 
C'est  vrai,  messieurs,  c'est  vrai." 

"  It  is  quite  true  ;  both  Apaches  and  Navajoes  carry  off 
children  from  the  valley,  here,  in  their  grand  forays  ;  and  it 
is  said  by  those  who  should  know,  that  most  of  them  are  used 
in  that  way.  Whether  as  a  sacrifice  to  the  fiery  god  Quetzal- 
coatl,  or  whether  from  a  fondness  for  human  flesh,  no  one 
has  as  yet  been  able  to  determine.  In  fact,  with  all  their 
propinquity  to  this  place,  there  is  little  known  about  them. 
Few  who  have  visited  their  towns  have  had  Gode's  luck  to 
get  away  again.  No  man  of  these  parts  ever  ventures  across 
the  western  Sierras." 

"And  how  came  you,  Monsieur  Gode,  to  save  your 
scalp  ?  " 

"  Pour  quoi,  monsieur,  ja  n'ai  pas.  I  not  haves  scalp-lock ; 
vat  de  trappare  Yankee  call  '  har,'  mon  scalp  lock,  is  fabrique 
of  von  barbier  de  Saint  Louis.     Voila,  monsieur !  " 

So  saying,  the  Canadian  lifted  his  cap,  and  along  with  it 
what  I  had,  up  to  this  time,  looked  upon  as  a  beautiful  curling 
head  of  hair,  but  which  now  proved  to  be  only  a  wig  ! 

"  Now,  messieurs  !  "  cried  he,  in  good  humor  ;  "  how  les 
sauvages  my  scalp  take  ?  Le  cussed  Indien  no  have  cash 
hold.     Parbleu ! " 

St.  Vrain  and  I  were  unable  to  restrain  our  laughter  at 
the  altered  and  comical  appearance  of  the  Canadian. 

"  Come,  Gode  !  the  least  you  can  do  after  that  is  to  take  a 
drink.     Here,  help  yourself !  " 

"  Tres-obligd,  Monsieur  St.     Vrain.     Je  vous  remercie." 


43 


THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 


And  the  ever-thirsty  voyageur  quaffed  off  the  nectar  of  El 
Paso,  like  so  much  fresh  milk. 

"  Come,  Haller  !  we  must  to  the  wagons.  Business  first, 
then  pleasure  :  such  as  we  may  find  here  among  these  brick 
stacks.     But  we'll  have  some  fun  in  Chihuahua." 

"  And  you  think  we  shall  go  there  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  They  do  not  want  the  fourth  part  of  our  stuff 
here.  We  must  carry  it  on  to  the  head  market.  To  the 
camp !     Allons  1 " 


Street  Theatricals  in  Spanish  America  During  the  Carnival. 

CHAPTER  VII. 


THE  FANDANGO. 


N  the  evening  I 
sat  in  my  room 
waiting  for  St 
V  r  a  i  n  .      His 

voice    reached    me    from 
without — 


^s^&prf^        '"  Las  ninas  cle  Durango 
^^K?  s,  Conmigo  bailandas, 

$£  ;;<•  Al  cielo— Ha!" 

— Are  you  ready,  my  bold 
rider  ? " 

"  Not  quite.     Sit  down  a  minute  and  wait." 
"  Hurry  then  1    the   dancing's  begun.     I  have  just  come 
that  way,     What!  that  your   ball-dress?     Ha!   ha  I    ha!" 
4  49 


50  THE   SCALP- HUNTERS. 

screamed  St.  Vrain,  seeing  me  unpack  a  blue  coat  and  a  pair 
of  dark  pantaloons,  in  a  tolerable  state  of  preservation. 

"  Why,  yes,"  replied  I,  looking  up  ;  "  What  fault  do  you 
find  ?     But  is  that  your  ball-dress  ?  " 

No  change  had  taken  place  in  the  ordinary  raiment  of 
my  friend.  The  fringed  hunting-shirt  and  leggins,  the  belt, 
the  bowie,  and  the  pistols,  were  all  before  me. 

"  Yes,  my  dandy  ;  this  is  my  ball-dress  :  it  ain't  anything 
shorter ;  and  if  you'll  take  my  advice,  you'll  wear  what  you 
have  got  on  your  back.  How  will  your  long-tailed  blue  look, 
with  a  broad  belt  and  bowie  strapped  round  the  skirts  ?  Ha  ! 
ha!  ha!" 

"  But  why  take  either  belt  or  bowie  ?  You  are  surely  not 
going  into  a  ball-room  with  your  pistols  in  that  fashion  ?  " 

"  And  how  else  should  I  carry  them  ?     In  my  hands  ? " 

"  Leave  them  here." 

"  Ha !  ha  !  that  would  be  a  green  trick.  No,  no.  Once 
bit,  twice  shy.  You  don't  catch  this  'coon  going  into  any 
fandango  in  Santa  Fe  without  his  six-shooters.  Come,  keep 
on  that  shirt ;  let  your  leggins  sweat  where  they  are,  and  buckle 
this  about  you.     That's  the  costume  du  bal  in  these  parts." 

"  If  you  assure  me  that  my  dress  will  be  comme  il  faut, 
I'm  agreed." 

"  It  won't  be  with  the  long-tailed  blue,  I  promise  you." 

The  long-tailed  blue  was  restored  forthwith  to  its  nook 
in  my  portmanteau. 

St.  Vrain  was  right.  On  arriving  at  the  room,  a  large  sala 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Plaza,  we  found  it  filled  with 
hunters,  trappers,  traders,  and  teamsters,  all  swaggering 
about  in  their  usual  mountain  ' '  rig."  Mixed  among  them  were 
some  two  or  three  score  of  the  "  natives,"  with  an  equal 
number  of  sefioritas,  all  of  whom,  by  their  style  of  dress,  I 
recognize  as  "  poblanas,"  or  persons  of  the  lower  class :  the 
only  class,  in  fact,  to  be  met  with  in  Santa  Fe. 


THE   FANDANGO.  51 

As  we  entered,  most  of  the  men  had  thrown  aside  their 
serapes  for  the  dance,  and  appeared  in  all  the  finery  of  em- 
broidered velvet,  stamped  leather,  and  shining  "  castletops." 
The  women  looked  not  less  picturesque  in  their  bright 
"  naguas,"  snowy  chemisettes,  and  small  satin  slippers. 
Some  of  them  flounced  it  in  polka  jackets  ;  for  even  to  that 
remote  region  the  famous  dance  had  found  its  way.  "  Have 
you  heard  of  the  electric  telegraph  ?  "  "  No,  senor."  "  Can 
you  tell  me  what  a  railroad  is  ?  "  "  Quien  sabe  ?  "  "  La 
polka  ?  "  "  Ah  !  sehor,  la  polka,  la  polka  !  cosa  buenita,  tan 
graciosa  1  vaya  !  " 

The  ball-room  was  a  long  oblong  sa/a,  with  a  "  banquette" 
running  all  round  it.  Upon  this  the  dancers  seated  them- 
selves, drew  out  their  husk  cigarettes,  chatted,  and  smoked 
during  the  intervals  of  the  dance.  In  one  corner,  half  a 
dozen  sons  of  Orpheus  twanged  away  upon  harp,  guitar,  and 
bandolin  ;  occasionally  helping  out  the  music  with  a  shrill 
half-Indian  chant.  In  another  angle  of  the  apartment, 
fiuros,  and  "  Taos"  whisky,  were  dealt  out  to  the  thirsty 
mountaineers,  who  made  the  sala  ring  with  their  wild  ejac- 
ulations. 

There  were  scenes  like  the  following : — 

"  Hyar,  my  little  muchacha  !  vamos,  vamos,  ter  dance  1 
Mucho  bueno  !  Mucho  bueno  ?     Will  ye  ?  " 

This  is  from  a  great  rough  fellow  of  six  feet  and  over, 
addressed  to  a  trim  little  poblana. 

"  Mucho  bueno,  Sehor  Americano  !  "  replies  the  lady. 

"  Hooraw  for  you  1  Come  along !  Let's  licker  fust ! 
You're  the  gal  for  my  beaver.  What'll  yer  drink  ?  Agwar- 
dent  or  vino  ?  " 

"  Copitita  de  vino,  sehor.     (A  small  glass  of  wine,  sir.) 

"  Hyar,  yer  darned  greaser  !  Set  out  your  vino  in  a  squ'll's 
jump !  Now,  my  little  'un,  hyar's  luck,  and  a  good  husband  !  " 

"  Gracias,  Senor  Americano  1  " 


52  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  What !  you  understand  that  ?     You  intende,  do  yer  ?  " 

"  Si,  senor  !  " 

"  Hooraw,  then  !  Look  hyar,  little  'un,  kin  yer  go  the 
b'ar  dance  ?  " 

"  No  entiende." 

"  Yer  don't  understan'  it !  Hyar  it  is  ;  this  a-way ;  "  and 
the  clumsy  hunter  began  to  show  off  before  his  partner,  in  an 
imitation  of  the  grizzly  bear. 

"Hilloa,  Bill  1  "  cries  a  comrade,  "  yer'll  be  trapped  if  yer 
don't  look  sharp.     How's  yer  kidneys,  hoss  ?  " 

"  I'm  dog-gone,  Jim,  if  I  don't  feel  queery  about  hyar," 
replies  the  hunter,  spreading  his  great  paw  over  the  region 
of  the  heart. 

"  Don't  be  skeert,  man ;  it's  a  nice  gal,  anyways." 

"  Nice  !  Draw  a  bead  on  them  eyes,  if  yer  kin  ;  and  jest 
squint  down  at  them  ankles  !  " 

"  Good  sights  ;  a  heap  o'  quarter  ;    clean  shanks." 

"  I  wonder  what  the  old  chap'll  take  for  her.  I'm  'most 
froze  for  a  squaw.  Hain't  had  nery  one  since  I  tuk  back 
that  Crow  woman  on  the  Yeller-stone." 

"  Wah,  man  !  yer  ain't  among  Injuns.  Get  the  gal's  con- 
sent, if  yer  kin,  and  she  won't  cost  yer  as  much  as  a  plug  o' 
'bacca." 

"  Hooray  for  old  Missouri !  "  shouts  a  teamster. 

"  Come,  boys !  Let's  show  these  yer  greasers  a  Virginny 
break-down.     '  Cl'ar  the  kitchen,  old  folks,  young  folks." 

"  Go  it  hoe  and  oe  !     '  Old  Virginny  nebir  tire  ! '  " 

"  Viva  el  gobernado  !     Viva  Armijo  !     Viva  !  viva  !  " 

An  arrival  at  this  moment  caused  a  sensation  in  the  room. 
A  stout,  fat,  priest-like  man  entered,  accompanied  by  several 
others.  It  was  the  governor  and  his  suite,  with  a  number 
of  well-dressed  citizens,  who  were  no  doubt  the  elite  of  New 
Mexican  society.  Some  of  the  new-comer,s  were  militaires, 
dressed   in   gaudy  and  foolish-looking   uniforms,  that  were 


THE    FANDANGO.  53 

soon  seen  spinning  round  the  room  in  the  mazes  of  the 
waltz. 

"  Where  is  the  Senora  Armijo  ?  "  I  whispered  to  St.  Vrain. 

I  told  you  as  much.  She  !  she  won't  be  out.  Stay  here  ; 
I  am  going  for  a  short  while.  Help  yourself  to  a  partner, 
and  see  some  fun.     I  will  be  back  presently.     Au  revoir  f  " 

Without  any  further  explanation,  St.  Vrain  squeezed  him- 
self through  the  crowd  and  disappeared. 

I  had  been  seated  on  the  banquette  since  entering  the  sala, 
St.  Vrain  beside  me,  in  a  retired  corner  of  the  room.  A 
man  of  peculiar  appearance  occupied  the  seat  next  to  St. 
Vrain,  but  farther  into  the  shadow  of  a  piece  of  furniture. 
I  had  noticed  this  man  as  we  entered,  and  noticed,  too,  that 
St.  Vrain  spoke  to  him  ;  but  I  was  not  introduced,  and  the 
interposition  of  my  friend  prevented  me  from  making  any 
further  observation  of  him  until  the  latter  had  retired.  We 
were  now  side  by  side ;  and  I  commenced  a  sort  of  angular 
reconnaissance  of  a  face  and  figure  that  had  somewhat  strangely 
arrested  my  attention.  He  was  not  an  American  ;  that  was 
evident  from  his  dress  ;  and  yet  the  face  was  not  Mexican. 
Its  outlines  were  too  bold  for  a  Spanish  face,  though  the 
complexion,  from  tan  and  exposure,  was  brown  and  swarth. 
His  face  was  clean-shaven,  except  his  chin,  which  carried  a 
pointed,  darkish  beard.  The  eye,  if  I  saw  it  aright  under 
the  shadow  of  a  slouched  brim,  was  blue  and  mild  ;  the  hair 
brown  and  wavy,  with  here  and  there  a  strand  of  silver. 
These  were  not  Spanish  characteristics,  much  less  Hispano- 
American  ;  and  I  should  have  at  once  placed  my  neighbor 
elsewhere  but  that  his  dress  puzzled  me.  It  was  purely  a 
Mexican  costume,  and  consisted  of  a  purple  manga,  with 
dark  velvet  embroidery  around  the  vent  and  along  the 
borders.  As  this  garment  covered  the  greater  part  of  his 
person,  I  could  only  see  that  underneath  was  a  pair  of  green 
velveteen  calzoneros,  with  yellow  buttons,  and  snow-white 


54  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

calzoncillos  puffing  out  along  the  seams.  The  bottoms  of 
the  calzoneros  were  trimmed  with  stamped  black  leather ; 
and  under  these  were  yellow  boots,  with  a  heavy  steel  spur 
upon  the  heel  of  each.  The  broad  peaked  strap  that  confined 
the  spur,  passing  over  the  foot,  gave  to  it  that  peculiar  con- 
tour that  we  observe  in  the  picture  of  armed  knights  of  the 
olden  time.  He  wore  a  black  broad-brimmed  sombrero, 
girdled  by  a  thick  band  of  gold  bullion.  A  pair  of  tags  of 
the  same  material  stuck  out  from  the  sides  :  the  fashion  of 
the  country. 

The  man  kept  his  sombrero  slouched  towards  the  light,  as 
I  thought  or  suspected,  for  the  concealment  of  his  face. 
And  yet  it  was  not  an  ill-favored  one.  On  the  contrary, 
it  was  open  and  pleasing :  no  doubt  had  been  handsome 
before  time,  and  whatever  caused  its  melancholy  expression, 
had  lined  and  clouded  it.  It  was  this  expression  that  had 
struck  me  on  first  seeing  the  man. 

Whilst  I  was  making  these  observations,  eyeing  him  cross- 
wise all  the  while,  I  discovered  that  he  was  eyeing  me  in  a 
similar  manner,  and  with  an  interest  apparently  equal  to  my 
own.  This  caused  us  to  face  round  to  each  other,  when 
the  stranger  drew  from  under  his  manga  a  small  beaded 
cigarero,  and,  gracefully  holding  out  it  to  me,  said — 

"  Quiere  a  fumar,  caballero  ?  "     (Would  you  smoke,  sir  ?) 

"  Thank  you,  yes,"  I  replied  in  Spanish,  at  the  same  time 
taking  a  cigar  from  the  case. 

We  had  hardly  lit  our  cigarettes  when  the  man  again 
turned  to  me,  with  the  unexpected  question — 

"  Will  you  sell  your  horse  ? " 

"No." 

"  Not  for  a  good  price  ? " 

"  Not  for  any  price." 

"  I  would  give  five  hundred  dollars  for  him." 

"  I  would  not  part  with  him  for  twice  the  amount." 


THE   FANDANGO.  55 

"  I  will  give  twice  the  amount." 

"  I  have  become  attached  to  him  :  money  is  no  object." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it.  I  have  traveled  two  hundred 
miles  to  buy  that  horse." 

I  looked  at  my  new  acquaintance  with  astonishment, 
involuntarily  repeating  his  last  words. 

"  You  must  have  followed  us  from  the  Arkansas,  then  ?  " 

"  No,  I  came  from  the  Rio  Abajo." 

"  The  Rio  Abajo  !     You  mean  from  down  the  Del  Norte  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then,  my  dear  sir,  it  is  a  mistake.  You  think  you  are 
talking  to  somebody  else,  and  bidding  for  some  other  horse." 

"  Oh,  no  !  He  is  yours.  A  black  stallion  with  red  nose 
and  long  full  tail :  half-bred  Arabian.  There  is  a  small 
mark  over  the  left  eye." 

This  was  certainly  the  description  of  Moro  ;  and  I  began 
to  feel  a  sort  of  superstitious  awe  in  regard  to  my  mysterious 
neighbor. 

"  True,"  replied  I  :  "  that  is  all  correct ;  but  I  bought 
that  stallion  many  months  ago  from  a  Louisiana  planter. 
If  you  have  just  arrived  from  two  hundred  miles  down  the 
Rio  Grande,  how,  may  I  ask,  could  you  have  known  anything 
about  me  or  my  horse  ?  " 

"  Dispensadme,  caballero  !  I  did  not  mean  that.  I  came 
from  below  to  meet  the  caravan,  for  the  purpose  of  buying 
an  American  horse.  Yours  is  the  only  one  in  the  caballada 
I  would  buy,  and,  it  seems,  the  only  one  that  is  not  for  sale  !  " 

"  I  am  sorry  for  that ;  but  I  have  tested  the  qualities  of 
this  animal.  We  have  become  friends.  No  common  motive 
would  induce  me  to  part  with  him." 

"  Ah,  sefior  ?  it  is  not  a  common  motive  that  makes  me  so 

eager  to  purchase  him.     If  you  knew  that,  perhaps "  he 

hesitated  a  moment ;  "  but  no,  no,  no !  "  and  after  muttering 
some  half-coherent  words,  among  which  I  could  recognize 


56  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

the  "  Buenos  noches,  caballero  !  "  the  stranger  rose  up  with 
the  same  mysterious  air  that  had  all  along  characterized  him, 
and  left  me.  I  could  hear  the  tinkling  of  the  small  bells 
upon  the  rowels  of  his  spurs,  as  he  slowly  warped  himself 
through  the  gay  crowd,  and  disappeared  into  the  night. 

The  vacated  seat  was  soon  occupied  by  a  dusky  "  manola," 
whose  bright  nagua,  embroidered  chemisette,  brown  ankles, 
and  small  blue  slippers,  drew  my  attention.  This  was  all  I 
could  see  of  her,  except  the  occasional  flash  of  a  very  black 
eye  through  the  loophole  of  the  "  rebozo  tapado."  By  de- 
grees, the  rebozo  became  more  generous,  the  loophole  ex- 
panded, and  the  outlines  of  a  very  pretty  and  very  malicious 
little  face  were  displayed  before  me.  The  end  of  the  scarf 
was  adroitly  removed  from  the  left  shoulder ;  and  a  nude 
plump  arm,  ending  in  a  bunch  of  small  jeweled  fingers, 
hung  carelessly  clown. 

I  am  tolerably  bashful ;  but  at  the  sight  of  this  tempting 
partner,  I  could  "  hold  in  "  no  longer,  and  bending  towards 
her,  I  said  in  my  best  Spanish,  "  Do  me  the  favor,  miss,  to 
waltz  with  me." 

The  wicked  little  manola  first  held  down  her  head  and 
blushed ;  then,  raising  the  long  fringes  of  her  eyes,  looked 
up  again,  and  with  a  voice  as  sweet  as  that  of  a  canary-bird, 
replied — 

"Con  gusto,  senor."     (With  pleasure,  sir.) 

"  Nos  vamos  !  "  cried  I,  elated  with  my  triumph ;  and 
pairing  off  with  my  brilliant  partner,  we  were  soon  whirling 
about  in  the  "  mazy." 

We  returned  to  our  seats  again,  and  after  refreshing  with 
a  glass  of  "  Albuquerque,"  a  sponge-cake,  and  a  "  husk  " 
cigarette,  again  "  took  the  floor."  This  pleasurable  prog- 
ram we  repeated  some  half-dozen  times,  only  varying  the 
dance  from  waltz  to  polka,  for  my  manola  danced  the  polka 
as  if  she  had  been  a  born  Bohemian. 


THE    FANDANGO.  57 

On  one  of  my  fingers  was  a  fifty-dollar  diamond,  which 
my  partner  seemed  to  think  was  "  muy  buenito."  As  her 
igneous  eyes  softened  my  heart,  and  the  champagne  was 
producing  a  similar  effect  upon  my  head,  I  began  to  specu- 
late on  the  propriety  of  transferring  the  diamond  from  the 
smallest  of  my  fingers  to  the  largest  of  hers,  which  it  would, 
no  doubt,  have  fitted  exactly.  All  at  once  I  became  con- 
scious of  being  under  the  surveillance  of  a  large  and  very 
fierce-looking  lepero,  a  regular  pelado,  who  followed  us  with 
his  eyes,  and  sometimes  in  persona,  to  every  part  of  the  room. 
The  expression  of  his  swarth  face  was  a  mixture  of  jealousy 
and  vengeance,  which  my  partner  noticed,  but,  as  I  thought, 
took  no  pains  to  soften  down. 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  I  whispered,  as  the  man  swung  past  us  in 
his  chequered  scrape'. 

"  Esta  mi  marido,  sehor  "  (it  is  my  husband,  sir),  was  the 
cool  reply. 

I  pushed  the  ring  close  up  to  the  root  of  my  finger,  shut- 
ting my  hand  upon  it  tight  as  a  vise. 

"  Vamos  a  tomar  otra  copita  !  "  (let  us  take  another  glass 
of  wine !)  said  I,  resolving  to  bid  my  pretty  "  poblana,"  as 
soon  as  possible,  a  good  night. 

The  Taos  whisky  had  by  this  time  produced  its  effect  upon 
the  dancers.  The  trappers  and  teamsters  had  become  noisy 
and  riotous.  The  leperos,  who  now  half  filled  the  room,  stim- 
ulated by  wine,  jealousy,  old  hatreds,  and  the  dance,  began 
to  look  more  savage  and  sulky.  The  fringed  hunting-shirts 
and  brown  homespun  frocks  found  favor  with  the  dark-eyed 
"  majas  "  of  Mexico,  partly  out  of  a  respect  for,  and  a  fear 
of,  courage,  which  is  often  at  the  bottom  of  a  love  like 
theirs. 

Although  the  trading  caravans  supplied  almost  all  the 
commerce  of  Santa  Fe  and  it  was  clearly  the  interest  of  its 
inhabitants  to  be  on  good  terms  with  the  traders,  the  two 


58  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

races,  Anglo-American  and  Hispano-Indian,  hated  each  other 
thoroughly  ;  and  that  hate  was  now  displaying  itself  on  one 
side  in  bullying  contempt,  on  the  other  in  muttered  "  carajos  " 
and  fierce  looks  of  vengeance. 

I  was  still  chatting  with  my  lively  partner.  We  were 
seated  on  the  banquette  where  I  had  introduced  myself. 
On  looking  casually  up,  a  bright  object  met  my  eyes.  It 
appeared  to  be  a  naked  knife  in  the  hands  of  "  su  marido," 
who  was  just  then  lowering  over  us  like  the  shadow  of  an 
evil  spirit.  I  was  favored  with  only  a  slight  glimpse  of  this 
dangerous  meteor,  and  had  made  up  my  mind  to  "  'ware 
steel,"  when  some  one  plucked  me  by  the  sleeve,  and  turning, 
I  beheld  my  quondam  acquaintance  of  the  purple  manga. 

"  Dispensadme,  senor  "  said  he,  nodding  graciously :  "  I 
have  just  learned  that  the  caravan  is  going  on  to  Chihuahua." 

"  True,  there  is  no  market  here  for  our  goods." 

"  You  go  on  then,  of  course  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  I  must." 

"  Will  you  return  this  way,  senor  ?  " 

"It  is  very  likely  ;  I  have  no  other  intention  at  present." 

"  Perhaps  then  you  might  be  willing  to  part  with  your 
horse  ?  You  will  find  many  as  good  in  the  great  valley  of 
the  Mississippi." 

"  Neither  is  likely." 

"  But,  senor,  should  you  be  inclined  to  do  so,  will  you 
promise  me  the  refusal  of  him  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  that  I  will  promise  you,  with  all  my  heart." 

Our  conversation  was  here  interrupted  by  a  huge,  gaunt, 
half-drunken  Missourian,  who,  trampling  rudely  upon  the 
stranger's  toes,  vociferated — 

"  Ye — up,  old  greaser  !  gi'  me  a  char." 

"  Y  porque  ?  "  (and  why  ? )  demanded  the  Mexican, 
drawing  in  his  feet,  and  looking  up  with  astonished  indigna- 
tion. 


THE  FANDANGO.  59 

"  Porky  be  durned  !  I'm  tired  jumpin'.  I  want  a  seat, 
that's  it,  old  hoss." 

There  was  something  so  bullying  and  brutal  in  the  con- 
duct of  this  man,  that  I  felt  called  upon  to  interfere. 

"  Come  1  said  I,  addressing  him,  "  you  have  no  right  to 
deprive  this  gentleman  of  his  seat,  much  less  in  such  a 
fashion." 

"  Eh,  mister  ?  who  the  hades  asked  you  to  open  yer  head  ? 
Ye — up,  I  say !  "  and  at  the  word,  he  seized  the  Mexican 
by  the  corner  of  his  manga,  as  if  to  drag  him  from  his  seat. 

Before  I  had  time  to  reply  to  this  rude  speech  and  gesture, 
the  stranger  leaped  to  his  feet,  and  with  a  well-planted  blow 
felled  the  bully  upon  the  floor. 

This  seemed  to  act  as  a  signal  for  bringing  several  other 
quarrels  to  a  climax.  There  was  a  rush  through  all  parts 
of  the  sala,  drunken  shouts  mingled  with  yells  of  vengeance, 
knives  glanced  from  their  sheaths,  women  screamed, 
pistols  flashed  and  cracked,  filling  the  rooms  with  smoke 
and  dust.  The  lights  went  out,  fierce  struggles  could  be 
heard  in  the  darkness,  the  fall  of  heavy  bodies  amidst  groans 
and  curses,  and  for  five  minutes  these  were  the  only  sounds. 

Having  no  cause  to  be  particularly  angry  with  anybody,  I 
stood  where  I  had  risen,  without  using  either  knife  or  pistol, 
my  frightened  "  maju  "  all  the  while  holding  me  by  the  hand. 
A  painful  sensation  near  my  left  shoulder  caused  me  sud- 
denly to  drop  my  partner  ;  and  with  that  unaccountable 
weakness  consequent  upon  the  reception  of  a  wound,  I  felt 
myself  staggering  toward  the  banquette.  Here  I  dropped 
into  a  sitting  posture,  and  remained  till  the  struggle  was  over, 
conscious  all  the  while  that  a  stream  of  blood  was  oozing 
down  my  back,  and  saturating  my  under  garments. 

I  sat  thus  till  the  struggle  had  ended.  A  light  was 
brought,  and  I  could  distinguish  a  number  of  men  in  hunt- 
ing-shirts   moving  to    and  fro  with    violent  gesticulations. 


60  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

Some  of  them  were  advocating  the  justice  of  the  "  spree," 
as  they  termed  it ;  while  others,  the  more  respectable  of  the 
traders,  were  denouncing  it.  The  leperos  with  the  women, 
had  all  disappeared,  and  I  could  perceive  that  the  "  Ameri- 
canos "  had  carried  the  day.  Several  dark  objects  lay  along 
the  floor :  they  were  bodies  of  men  dead  or  dying !  One 
was  an  American,  the  Missourian  who  had  been  the  immedi- 
ate cause  of  the  fracas;  the  others  were  pelados.  I  could 
see  nothing  of  my  late  acquaintance.  My  fandanguera,  too 
— con  su  marido — had  disappeared  ;  and  on  glancing  at  my 
left  hand,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  so  also  had  my 
diamond  ring ! 

"  St.  Vrain  !  St.  Vrain  !  "  I  called,  seeing  the  figure  of 
my  friend  enter  at  the  door. 

"  Where  are  you,  H.,  old  boy  ?  How  is  it  with  you  ?  all 
right,  eh  ?  " 

"  Not  quite,  I  fear." 

"  Good  heavens  !  what's  this  ?  why,  you're  stabbed  in  the 
hump  ribs  !  Not  bad,  I  hope.  Off  with  your  shirt  and  let's 
see." 

'•  First  let  us  to  my  room." 

"  Come  then,  my  dear  boy,  lean  on  me — so,  so  1  " 

The  fandango  was  over. 


Fruit  Peddler,  Water  Carrier,  and  Market  Women. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SECxUIN    THE    SCALP-HUNTER. 

HAVE  had  the  pleasure  of  being 
wounded  in  the  field  of  battle.  I 
say  pleasure.  Under  certain  circum- 
stances, wounds  are  luxuries.  You 
have  been  carried  on  a  "  stretcher  "  to  some  secure  spot. 
An  aid-de-camp  drops  from  his  sweating  horse,  and  announces 
that  "the  enemy  is  in  full  flight,"  thus  relieving  you  from 
the  apprehension  of  being  transfixed  by  some  mustached 
lancer ;  a  friendly  surgeon  bends  over  you,  and  after 
groping  awhile  about  your  wound,  tells  you  it  is  "  only  a 
scratch,"  and  that  it  will  be  well  in  a  week  or  two;  then 
come  visions  of  glory,  the  glory  of  the  Gazette  ;  present 
pains  are  forgotten  in  the  contemplation  of  future  triumphs ; 
the  congratulations  of  friends  ;  the  smiles,  perchance,  of  one 
dearer  than  all.  Consoled  by  such  anticipations,  you  lie 
back  on  your  rude  couch,  smiling  at  a  bullet-hole  through 
your  thigh,  or  the  slash  of  a  saber  across  your  arm. 

I  have  had  these  emotions.      How  different  were   the 

61 


62  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

feelings  I  experienced  while  smarting  under  wounds  that 
came  by  the  steel  of  the  assassin  ! 

My  earliest  anxiety  was  about  the  "  depth  "  of  my  wound. 
Was  it  mortal  ?  This  is  generally  the  first  question  a  man 
puts  to  himself,  after  discovering  that  he  has  been  shot  or 
stabbed.  A  wounded  man  cannot  always  answer  it  either. 
One's  life-blood  may  be  spurting  from  the  artery  at  each 
palpitation,  while  the  actual  pain  felt  is  not  worth  the  prick- 
ing of  a  pin. 

On  reaching  the  Fonda,  I  sank  exhausted  on  my  bed. 
St.  Vrain  split  my  hunting-shirt  from  cape  to  skirt,  and  com- 
menced examining  my  wound.  I  could  not  see  my  friend's 
face  as  he  stood  behind  me,  and  I  waited  with  impatience. 

"  Is  it  deep  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Not  deep  as  a  draw-well,  nor  wide  as  a  wagon-track," 
was  the  reply.  "  You're  quite  safe,  old  fellow  ;  thank  Prov- 
idence, and  not  the  man  who  handled  that  knife,  for  the 
fellow  plainly  intended  to  do  for  you.  It  is  the  cut  of  a 
Spanish  knife,  and  a  devilish  gash  it  is.  By  Jove  !  Haller, 
it  was  a  close  shave.  One  inch  more,  and  the  spine,  my  boy  ! 
But  you're  safe,  I  say.     Here,  Gode  !  that  sponge  !  " 

"  Parbleu  !  "  muttered  Gode',  with  true  Gallic  aspirate,  as 
he  handed  the  wet  rag. 

I  felt  the  cold  application.  Then  a  bunch  of  soft  raw 
cotton,  the  best  dressing  it  could  have,  was  laid  over  the 
wound,  and  fastened  by  strips.  The  most  skilful  surgeon 
could  have  done  no  more. 

"  Close  as  a  clamp,"  added  St.  Vrain,  as  he  fastened  the 
last  pin,  and  placed  me  in  the  easiest  position.  "  But  what 
started  the  row  ?  and  how  came  you  to  cut  such  a  figure  in 
it  ?     I  was  out,  thank  God  !  " 

"  Did  you  observe  a  strange-looking  man " 

"  What  1  with  the  purple  manga  ?  " 

"  Yes." 


SEGUIN    THE   SCALP-HUNTER.  63 

"  He  sat  beside  us  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Ha !  No  wonder  you  say  a  strange-looking  man ; 
stranger  than  he  looks  too.  I  saw  him,  I  know  him,  and 
perhaps  not  another  in  the  room  could  say  that.  Ay,  there 
•was  another,"  continued  St.  Vrain,  with  a  peculiar  smile  ; 
"  but  what  could  have  brought  him  there  is  that  which 
puzzles  me.     Armijo  could  not  have  seen  him  :  but  go  on." 

I  related  to  St.  Vrain  the  whole  of  my  conversation  with 
the  stranger,  and  the  incidents  that  led  to  the  breaking  up 
of  the  fandango. 

"  It  is  odd — very  odd  !  What  the  deuce  could  he  want 
with  your  horse?  Two  hundred  miles,  and  offers  a  thou- 
sand dollars !  " 

"  Enfant  de  garce,  capitaine  !  "  (Gode  had  called  me 
captain  ever  since  the  ride  upon  the  buffalo)  ;  "if  monsieur 
come  two  hunred  mile,  and  vill  pay  un  mille  thousan  dollar, 
pe  Gar  1  he  Moro  like  ver,  ver  moch.  Un  grand  passion 
pour  le  cheval.  Pourquois :  vy  he  no  like  him  ver  sheep  ? 
vy  he  no  steal  'im  ?  " 

I  started  at  the  suggestion,  and   looked  toward  St.  Vrain. 

"  Vith  permiss  of  le  capitaine,  I  vill  le  chavel  cache,"  con- 
tinued the  Canadian  moving  towards  the  door. 

"  You  need  not  trouble  yourself,  old  Nor'-west,  as  far  as 
that  gentleman  is  concerned.  He'll  not  steal  your  horse ; 
though  that's  no  reason  why  you  should  not  fulfil  your  in- 
tention, and  cache  the  animal.  There  are  thieves  enough  in 
Santa  Fe  to  steal  the  horses  of  a  whole  regiment.  You  had 
better  fasten  him  by  the  door  here." 

Gode  after  devoting  Santa  Fe  and  its  inhabitants  to  a 
much  warmer  climate  than  Canada,  passed  to  the  door,  and 
disappeared. 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  I  asked,  "  this  man,  about  whom  there 
seems  to  be  so  much  that  is  mysterious  ?  " 


64 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


"  Ah !  if  you  knew.  I  will  tell  you  some  queer  passages 
by  and  by,  but  not  to-night.  You  have  no  need  of  excite- 
ment.    That  is  the  famous  Seguin — the  Scalp-hunter." 

"  The  Scalp-hunter !  " 

"  Ay !  you  have  heard  of  him,  no  doubt ;  at  least  you 
would,  had  you  been  much  among  the  mountains." 


Exterminating  Supernumerary  Dogs  in  Mexico. 


"  I  have, 
innocent — 


The  hellish  ruffian  1     The  wholesale  butcher  of 


A  dark  waif  danced  against  the  wall :  it  was  the  shadow 
of  a  man.     I  looked  up.     Seguin  was  before  me  1 

St.  Vrain  on  seeing  him  enter  had  turned  away  and  stood 
looking  out  of  the  window. 

I  was  on  the  point  of  changing  my  tirade  into  the  apos- 
trophic  form,  and  at  the  same  time  ordering  the  man  out  of 
my  sight,  when  something  in  his  look  influenced  me  to  re- 


SEGUIN    THE   SCALP-HUNTER.  65 

main  silent.  I  could  not  tell  whether  he  had  heard  or  under- 
stood to  whom  my  abusive  epithets  had  been  applied ;  but 
there  was  nothing  in  his  manner  that  betrayed  his  having 
done  so.  I  observed  only  the  same  look  that  had  at  first 
attracted  me  :  the  same  expression  of  deep  melancholy. 

Could  this  man  be  the  hardened  and  heartless  villain  I 
had  heard  of,  the  author  of  so  many  atrocities  ? 

11  Sir,"  said  he,  seeing  that  I  remained  silent,  "  I  deeply 
regret  what  has  happened  to  you.  I  was  the  involuntary 
cause  of  your  mishap.     Is  your  wound  a  severe  one  ?  " 

"  It  is  not,"  I  replied,  with  a  dryness  of  manner  that 
seemed  somewhat  to  disconcert  him. 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,"  he  continued,  after  a  pause.  "  I 
came  to  thank  you  for  your  generous  interference.  I  leave 
Santa  Fe  in  ten  minutes.     I  must  bid  you  farewell." 

He  held  forth  his  hand.  I  muttered  the  word  "  farewell," 
but  without  offering  to  exchange  the  salutation.  The  stories 
of  cruel  atrocity  connected  with  the  name  of  this  man  came 
into  my  mind  at  the  moment,  and  I  felt  a  loathing  for  him. 
His  arm  remained  in  its  outstretched  position,  while  a 
strange  expression  began  to  steal  over  his  countenance,  as 
he  saw  that  I  hesitated. 

"  I  cannot  take  your  hand,"  I  said  at  length. 

"  And  why  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  mild  tone. 

"  Why  ?  it  is  red,  red  !     Away,  sir,  away  !  " 

He  fixed  his  eyes  upon  me  with  a  sorrowful  look.  There 
was  not  a  spark  of  anger  in  them.  He  drew  his  hand  within 
the  folds  of  his  manga,  and  uttering  a  deep  sigh,  turned  and 
walked  slowly  out  of  the  room. 

St.  Vrain,  who  had  wheeled  round  at  the  close  of  this 
scene,  strode  forward  to  the  door,  and  stood  looking  after 
him.  I  could  see  the  Mexican,  from  where  I  lay,  as  he 
crossed  the  quadrangular  patio.  He  had  shrugged  himself 
closely  in  his  manga,  and  was  moving  off  in  an  attitude  that 
5 


66  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

betokened  the  deepest  dejection.  In  a  moment  he  was  out 
of  sight,  having  passed  through  the  saguan,  and  into  the 
street. 

"  There  is  something  truly  mysterious  about  that  man. 
Tell  me,  St.  Vrain " 

"  Hush-sh  !  look  yonder  !  "  interrupted  my  friend,  pointing 
through  the  open  door. 

I  looked  out  into  the  moonlight.  Three  human  forms 
were  moving  along  the  wall,  toward  the  entrance  of  the 
patio.  Their  height,  their  peculiar  attitudes,  and  the 
stealthy  silence  of  their  steps,  convinced  me  they  were  In- 
dians. The  next  moment  they  were  lost  under  the  dark 
shadows  of  the  saguan. 

"  Who  are  they  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Worse  enemies  to  poor  Seguin  than  you  would  be,  if 
you  knew  him  better.  I  pity  him  if  these  hungry  hawks 
overtake  him  in  the  dark.  But  no  ;  he's  worth  warning, 
and  a  hand  to  help  him,  if  need  be.  He  shall  have  it. 
Keep  cool,  Harry  !     I  will  be  back  in  a  jiffy." 

So  saying,  St.  Vrain  left  me  ;  and  the  moment  after  I 
could  see  his  light  form  passing  hastily  out  of  the  gate. 

I  lay  reflecting  on  the  strangeness  of  the  incidents  that 
seemed  to  be  occurring  around  me.  I  was  not  without 
some  painful  reflections.  I  had  wounded  the  feelings  of  one 
who  had  not  injured  me,  and  for  whom  my  friend  evidently 
entertained  a  high  respect.  A  shod  hoof  sounded  upon  the 
stones  outside :  it  was  Gode  with  my  horse ;  and  the  next 
moment  I  heard  him  hammering  the  picket-pin  into  the 
pavement. 

Shortly  after,  St.  Vrain  himself  returned. 

"  Well,"  I  inquired,  "  what  happened  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing  much.  That's  a  weasel  that  never  sleeps.  He 
had  mounted  his  horse  before  they  came  up  with  him,  and 
was  very  soon  out  of  their  reach." 


SEGUIN   THE   SCALP-HUNTER. 


67 


"  But  may  they  not  follow  him  on  horseback  ?  " 

"  That  is  not  likely.  He  has  comrades  not  far  from  here, 
I  warrant  you.  Armijo — and  it  was  he  sent  those  villains 
on  his  track — has  no  force  that  dare  follow  him  when  he 
gets  upon  the  wild  hills.  No  fear  for  him  once  he  has  cleared 
the  houses." 

"  But,  my  dear  St.  Vrain,  tell  me  what  you  know  of  this 
singular  man.     I  am  wound  up  to  a  pitch  of  curiosity." 

"  Not  to-night,  Harry  ;  not  to-night.  I  do  not  wish  to 
cause  you  further  excitement ;  besides,  I  have  reason  to 
leave  you  now.  To-morrow,  then.  Good  night  1  good 
night !  " 

And  so  saying,  my  mercurial  friend  left  me  to  Gode*  and 
a  night  of  restlessness. 


Indian  Pottery  Decorator.  Pottery  Merchant. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

LEFT    BEHIND. 

N  the  third  day  after  the  fandango,  it 
is  announced  that  the  caravan  will 
move  onward  to  Chihuahua. 

The  day  arrives,  and  I  am  unable 
to  travel  with  it.  My  surgeon,  a 
wretched  leech  of  a  Mexican,  assures  me  that  it  will  be 
certain  death  to  attempt  the  journey.  For  want  of  any  op- 
posing evidence,  I  am  constrained  to  believe  him.  I  have 
no  alternative  but  adopt  the  joyless  resolve  to  remain  in 
Santa  Fe  until  the  return  of  the  traders. 

Chafing  on  a  feverish  bed,  I  take  leave  of  my  late  com- 
panions. We  part  with  many  regrets  ;  but  above  all,  I  am 
pained  at  bidding  adieu  to  St.  Vrain,  whose  light-hearted 
companionship  has  been  my  solace  through  three  days  of 
suffering.  He  has  proved  my  friend  ;  and  has  undertaken 
to  take  charge  of  my  wagons,  and  dispose  of  my  goods  in 
the  market  oi  Chihuahua. 
68 


LEFT   BEHIND.  69 

"  Do  not  fret,  man,"  says  he,  taking  leave.  "  Kill  time 
with  the  champagne  of  El  Paso.  We  will  be  back  in  a 
squirrel's  jump  ;  and,  trust  me,  I  will  bring  you  a  mule-load 
of  Mexican  shiners.     God  bless  you  !     Good-by  !  " 

I  can  sit  up  in  my  bed  and,  from  the  open  window,  see 
the  white  tilts  of  the  wagons,  as  the  train  rolls  over  a  neigh- 
boring hill.  I  hear  the  cracking  whips  and  the  deep-toned 
"  wo-ha  "  of  the  teamsters  ;  I  see  the  traders  mount  and 
gallop  after  ;  and  I  turn  upon  my  couch  with  a  feeling  of 
loneliness  and  desertion. 

For  days  I  lie  tossing  and  fretting,  despite  the  consola- 
tory influence  of  the  champagne,  and  the  rude  but  kindly 
attentions  of  my  voyageur  valet. 

I  rise  at  length,  dress  myself,  and  sit  in  my  "  ventana." 
I  have  a  good  view  of  the  plaza  and  the  adjacent  streets, 
with  their  rows  of  brown  adobe  houses,  and  dusty  ways 
between. 

I  gaze,  hour  after  hour,  on  what  is  passing  without.  The 
scene  is  not  without  novelty  as  well  as  variety.  Swarthy, 
ill-favored  faces  appear  behind  the  folds  of  dingy  rebozos. 
Fierce  glances  lower  under  the  slouch  of  broad  sombreros. 
Poblanas  with  short  skirts  and  slippered  feet  pass  my  win- 
dow ;  and  groups  of  "  tame  "  Indians,  pueblos,  crowd  in 
from  the  neighboring  rancherias,  belaboring  their  donkeys 
as  they  go.  These  bring  baskets  of  fruit  and  vegetables. 
They  squat  down  upon  the  dusty  plaza,  behind  piles  of 
prickly  pears,  or  pyramids  of  tomatoes  and  chile.  The 
women,  light-hearted  hucksters,  laugh  and  sing  and  chatter 
continuously.  The  tortillera,  kneeling  by  her  metatk,  bruises 
the  boiled  maize,  claps  it  .into  thin  flakes,  flings  it  on  the 
heated  stone,  and  then  cries,  "  Tortillas  /  tortillas  calieutes  !  " 
The  cocinera  stirs  the  peppery  stew  of  chile  Colorado,  lifts 
the  red  liquid  in  her  wooden  ladle,  and  invites  her  customers 
by  the  expressions  :  "  Chile  bueno  I  excellente  I  "     "  Carbon  1 


70  THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 

carbon  !  "  cries  the  charcoal-burner.  "  Agua  !  agua  limpia  /" 
shouts  the  aguadore.  "  Pan  fino,  pan  bianco  /"  screams  the 
baker ;  and  other  cries  from  the  venders  of  atole,  htievos, 
and  leche,  are  uttered  in  shrill  discordant  voices.  Such  are 
the  voices  of  a  Mexican  "  plaza." 

They  are  at  first  interesting.  They  become  monotonous, 
then  disagreeable  ;  until  at  length  I  am  tortured,  and  listen 
to  them  with  a  feverish  excitement. 

After  a  few  days  I  am  able  to  walk,  and  go  out  with  my 
faithful  Gode.  We  stroll  through  the  town.  It  reminds 
me  of  an  extensive  brick-field  before  the  kilns  have  been  set 
on  fire. 

We  encounter  the  same  brown  adobes  everywhere ;  the 
same  villainous-looking  leperos  lounging  at  the  corners  ;  the 
same  bare-legged  slippered  wenches  ;  the  same  strings  of 
belabored   donkeys  ;    the   same  shrill  and  detestable  cries. 

We  pass  by  a  ruinous-looking  house  in  a  remote  quarter. 
Our  ears  are  saluted  by  voices  from  within.  We  hear  shouts 
of  " Mneran  los  Yankies  !  Abajo  los  Americanos!"  No 
doubt  the  pelado,  to  whom  I  was  indebted  for  my  wound,  is 
among  the  ruffians  who  crowd  into  the  windows ;  but  I 
know  the  lawlessness  of  the  place  too  well  to  apply  for  jus- 
tice. 

We  hear  the  same  shouts  in  another  street ;  again  in  the 
plaza  ;  and  Gode  and  I  re-enter  the  Fonda  with  a  conviction 
that  our  appearance  in  public  might  be  attended  with  danger. 
We  resolve,  therefore,  to  keep  within  doors. 

In  all  my  life  I  never  suffered  ennui,  as  when  cooped  up 
in  this  semi-barbarous  town,  and  almost  confined  within  the 
walls  of  its  filthy  Fonda.  I  felt  it  the  more  that  I  had  so 
lately  enjoyed  the  company  of  such  free  jovial  spirits,  and  I 
could  fancy  them  in  their  bivouacs  on  the  banks  of  the  Del 
Norte,  carousing,  laughing,  or  listening  to  some  wild  moun- 
tain story. 


LEFT    BEHIND. 


71 


God6  shared  my  feelings,  and  became  as  desponding  as 
myself.  The  light  humor  of  the  voyageur  disappeared. 
The  song  of  the  Canadian  boatman  was  heard  no  longer  ; 
but,  in  its  place,  French  and  English  oaths  were  sputtered 
plentifully,  and  hurled  at  everything  Mexican.  I  resolved  at 
length  to  put  an  end  to  our  sufferings. 


Indian  Funeral  Rites  in  Mexico. 


"  This  life  will  never  do,  Gode,"  said  I,  addressing  my 

compagnon. 

"  Ah  !  monsieur,  nevare  !  nevare  it  vill  do.     Ah  !  ver  doll. 

It  is  like  von  assemblee  of  le  Quaker." 

"I  am  determined  to  endure  it  no  longer." 

"  But  what  can  monsieur  do  ?     How,  capitaine  ?  " 

"  By  leaving  this  accursed  place,  and  that  to-morrow." 

"  But  is    monsieur   fort  ?  strongs   beaucoup  ?  strongs   to 

ride  ?  " 

"  I  will  risk  it,  Gode.     If  I  break  down,  there  are  other 


72  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

towns  on  the  river  where  we  can  halt.  Anywhere  better 
than  here." 

"  C'est  vrai,  capitaine.  Beautiful  village  down  the  river. 
Albuquerque ;  Tome  :  ver  many  village.  Mon  Dieu !  all 
better.  Santa  Fe  is  one  camp  of  cussed  tief.  Ver  good  for 
us  go,  monsieur  ;  ver  good." 

"  Good  or  not,  Gode,  I  am  going.  So  make  your  prepa- 
rations to-night,  for  I  will  leave  in  the  morning  before  sun- 
rise." 

"  Dieu  merci !  It  will  be  von  grand  plaisir  to  makes 
ready."  And  the  Canadian  ran  from  the  room,  snapping 
his  fingers  with  delight. 

I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  leave  Santa  Fe  at  any  rate. 
Should  my  strength,  yet  but  half  restored,  hold  out,  I  would 
follow,  and  if  possible  overtake  the  caravan.  I  knew  it 
could  make  but  short  journeys  over  the  deep  sand  roads  of 
the  Del  Norte'.  Should  I  not  succeed  in  coming  up  with  it, 
I  could  halt  in  Albuquerque  or  El  Paso,  either  of  which 
would  offer  me  a  residence  at  least  as  agreeable  as  the  one 
I  was  leaving. 

My  surgeon  endeavored  to  dissuade  me  from  setting  out. 
He  represented  that  I  was  in  a  most  critical  condition ;  my 
wound  far  from  being  cicatrised.  He  set  forth  in  most 
eloquent  terms  the  dangers  of  fever,  of  gangrene,  of  hemor- 
rhage. He  saw  I  was  obstinate,  and  concluded  his  monitions 
by  presenting  his  bill.  It  amounted  to  the  modest  sum  of 
one  hundred  dollars  !  It  was  an  extortion.  What  could  I  do  ? 
I  stormed  and  protested.  The  Mexican  threatened  me  with 
"  governor's  "  justice.  Gode  swore  in  French,  Spanish,  Eng- 
lish, and  Indian.  It  was  all  to  no  purpose.  I  saw  that  the 
bill  would  have  to  be  paid,  and  I  paid  it,  though  with  indif- 
ferent grace. 

The  leech  disappeared,  and  the  landlord  came  next.  He, 
like  the  former,  made  earnest  entreaty  to  prevent  me  from 


LEFT   BEHIND.  73 

setting  forth.  He  offered  a  variety  of  reasons  to  de- 
tain me. 

"  Do  not  go  ;  for  your  life,  senor,  do  not !  " 

"  And  why,  good  Jose'  ?  "     I  inquired. 

"  Oh,  senor,  los  Indios  bravos  !  los  Navajoes  !  carrambo  !  " 

"  But  I  am  not  going  into  the  Indian  country.  I  travel 
down  the  river,  through  the  towns  of  New  Mexico." 

"  Ah !  senor  !  the  towns !  no  hay  seguridad.  No,  no ; 
there  is  safety  nowhere  from  the  Navajo.  Hay  novedades  ; 
news  this  very  day.  Polvidera ;  pobre  Polvidera  !  It  was 
attacked  on  Sunday  last.  On  Sunday,  senor,  when  they 
were  all  en  la  misa.  Pues,  senor,  the  robbers  surrounded 
the  church  ;  and  oh,  carrambo  !  they  dragged  out  the  poor 
people — men,  women,  and  children  !  Pues,  senor  ;  they  kill 
the  men  ;  and  the  women  :  Dios  de  mi  alma  !  " 

"  Well,  and  the  women  ?  " 

"  Oh,  senor  !  they  are  all  gone  :  they  were  carried  to  the 
mountains  by  the  savages.     Pobres  mugeres  !  " 

"  It  is  a  sad  story,  truly  ;  but  the  Indians,  I  understand, 
only  make  these  forays  at  long  intervals.  I  am  not  likely  to 
meet  with  them  now.  At  all  events,  Jose,  I  have  made  up 
up  my  mind  to  run  the  risk." 

"  But,  senor,"  continued  Jose,  lowering  his  voice  to  a 
confidential  tone,  "  there  are  other  ladrones  besides  the 
Indians :  white  ones,  muchos,  muchissimos  ?  Ay,  indeed, 
mi  arao,  white  robbers ;  blancos,  blancos  y  mu  y  feos, 
carrai !  " 

And  Jose  closed  his  fingers  as  if  clutching  some  imagi- 
nary object. 

This  appeal  to  my  fears  was  in  vain.  I  answered  it  by 
pointing  to  my  revolvers  and  rifle,  and  to  the  well-filled  belt 
of  my  henchman  Gode'. 

When  the  Mexican  Boniface  saw  that  I  was  determined  to 
rob  him  of  all  the  guests  he  had  in  his  house,  he  retired  sul- 


74 


THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 


lenly,  and  shortly  after  returned  with  his  bill.  Like  that  of 
the  t:  medico,"  it  was  out  of  all  proportion  ;  but  I  could  not 
help  myself,  and  paid  it. 

By  gray  dawn  I  was  in  my  saddle  ;  and,  followed  by 
Gode*  and  a  couple  of  heavily  packed  mules,  I  rode  out  of 
the  ill-favored  town,  and  took  the  road  for  the  Rio  Abajo. 


Mexican  Crab  and  Land  Shells. 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE    DEL    NORTE. 


OR  days  we  journey 
clown  the  Del  Norte". 
We  pass  through  nu- 
merous villages,  many 
of  them  types  of  Santa  Fe'.  We 
cross  the  zequias  and  irrigating 
canals,  and  pass  along  fields  of 
bright  green  maize  plants.  We 
see  vineyards  and  grand  haciendas.  These  appear  richer 
and  more  prosperous  as  we  approach  the  southern  part  of 
the  province,  the  Rio  Abajo. 

In  the  distance  both  east  and  west,  we  descry  dark  moun- 
tains rolled  up  against  the  sky.  These  are  the  twin  ranges 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Long  spurs  trend  towards  the 
river,  and  in  places  appear  to  close  up  the  valley.  They 
add  to  the  expression  of  many  a  beautiful  landscape  that 
opens  before  us  as  we  move  onward. 

75 


76  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

We  see  picturesque  costumes  in  the  villages  and  along  the 
highways :  men  dressed  in  the  chequered  serapd  or  the 
striped  blankets  of  the  Navajoes ;  conical  sombreros  with 
broad  brims  ;  calzoneros  of  velveteen,  with  their  rows  of 
shining  castle-tops,  and  fastened  at  the  waist  by  the  jaunty 
sash.  We  see  mangas  and  tilmas,  and  men  wearing  the 
sandal  as  in  Eastern  lands.  On  the  women  we  observe  the 
graceful  rebozo,  the  short  nagua,  and  the  embroidered 
chemisette. 

We  see  rude  implements  of  husbandry  :  the  creaking  car- 
reta,  with  its  block  wheels  ;  the  primitive  plow  of  the  fork- 
ing tree-branch,  scarcely  scoring  the  soil;  the  horn-yoked 
oxen  ;  the  goad  ;  the  clumsy  hoe  in  the  hands  of  the  peon 
serf :  these  are  all  objects  that  are  new  and  curious  to  our 
eyes,  and  that  indicate  the  lowest  order  of  agricultural 
knowledge. 

Along  the  roads  we  meet  numerous  atajos,  in  charge  of 
their  arrieros.  We  observe  the  mules,  small,  smooth,  light- 
limbed,  and  vicious.  We  glance  at  the  heavy  alparejas  and 
bright  worsted  apishamores.  We  notice  the  tight  wiry  mus- 
tangs, ridden  by  the  arrieros ;  the  high-peaked  saddles  and 
hair  bridles  ;  the  swarth  faces  and  pointed  beards  of  the 
riders :  the  huge  spurs  that  tinkle  at  every  step  ;  the  excla- 
mations, "  Hola,  mula  !  malraya !  vaya  !  "  We  notice  all 
these,  and  they  tell  us  we  are  journeying  in  the  land  of  the 
Hispano-American. 

Under  other  circumstances  these  objects  would  have  inter- 
ested me.  At  that  time,  they  appeared  to  me  like  the  pic- 
tures of  a  panorama,  or  the  changing  scenes  of  a  continuous 
dream.  As  such  have  they  left  their  impressions  on  my 
memory.     I  was  under  the  incipient  delirium  of  fever. 

It  was  as  yet  only  incipient ;  nevertheless,  it  distorted  the 
images  around  me,  and  rendered  their  impressions  unnatural 
and  wearisome.     My  wound  began  to  pain  me  afresh,  and 


THE    DEL   NORTE. 


77 


the  hot  sun,  and  the  dust,  and  the  thirst,  with  the  miserable 
accommodations  of  New  Mexican  posadas,  vexed  me  to  an 
excess  of  endurance. 

On  the  fifth  day  after  leaving  Santa  Fe,  we  entered  the 
wretched  little  "  pueblo  "  of  Parida.  It  was  my  intention  to 
have  remained  there  all  night,  but  it  proved  a  ruffian  sort  of 


Domestic  Bliss   among  the  Peons. 


place,  with  meager  chances  of  comfort,  and  I  moved  on  to 
Socorro.  This  is  the  last  inhabited  spot  in  New  Mexico,  as 
you  approach  the  terrible  desert,  the  Jornada  del  Muerte. 

Gode  had  never  made  the  journey,  and  at  Parida  I  had 
obtained  one  thing  that  we  stood  in  need  of :  a  guide.  He 
had  volunteered ;  and  as  I  learnt  that  it  would  be  no  easy 
task  to  procure  one  at  Socorro,  I  was  fain  to  take  him  along. 


78  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

He  was  a  coarse,  shaggy  looking  customer,  and  I  did  not  at  all 
like  his  appearance  ;  but  I  found,  on  reaching  Socorro,  that 
what  I  had  heard  was  correct.  No  guide  could  be  hired  on 
any  terms,  so  great  was  their  dread  of  the  Jornada  and  its 
occasional  denizens,  the  Apaches. 

Socorro  was  alive  with  Indian  rumors,  novedades.  The 
Indians  had  fallen  upon  an  atajo  near  the  crossing  of  Fra 
Cristobal,  and  murdered  the  arrieros  to  a  man.  The  village 
was  full  of  consternation  at  the  news.  The  people  dreaded 
an  attack,  and  thought  me  mad  when  I  made  known  my  in- 
tention of  crossing  the  Jornada. 

I  began  to  fear  they  would  frighten  my  guide  from  his 
engagement,  but  the  fellow  stood  out  stanchly,  still  express- 
ing his  willingness  to  accompany  us. 

Without  the  prospect  of  meeting  the  Apache  savages,  I  was 
but  ill  prepared  for  the  Jornada.  The  pain  of  my  wound 
had  increased,  and  I  was  fatigued  and  burning  with  fever. 

But  the  caravan  had  passed  through  Socorro  only  three 
days  before,  and  I  was  in  hopes  of  overtaking  my  old  com- 
panions before  they  could  leave  El  Paso.  This  determined 
me  to  proceed  in  the  morning,  and  I  made  arrangements  for 
an  early  start. 

Gode  and  I  were  awake  before  dawn.  My  attention  went 
out  to  summon  the  guide  and  saddle  our  animals.  I  remained 
in  the  house  making  preparations  for  a  cup  of  coffee  before 
starting.  I  was  assisted  by  the  landlord  of  the  posada,  who 
had  risen,  and  was  stalking  about  in  his  serape\ 

While  thus  engaged  I  was  startled  by  the  voice  of  Gode 
calling  from  without,  "  Mon  maitre !  mon  maitre  !  the  rascal 
have  him  run  vay  1  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?     Who  has  run  away  ?  " 

"  Oh,  monsieur  la  Mexicaine,  vith  von  mule,  has  robb, 
and  run  vay.     Allons,  monsieur,  allons  !  " 

I  followed  the  Canadian  to  the  stable  with  a  feeling  of 


THE    DEL   NORTE. 


79 


anxiety.  My  horse — but  no — thank  heaven,  he  was  there  1 
One  of  the  muies,  the  macho,  was  gone.  It  was  the  one 
which  the  guide  had  ridden  from  Parada. 

"  Perhaps  he  is  not  off  yet,"  I  suggested.  "  He  may  still 
be  in  the  town." 

We  sent  and  went  in  all  directions  to  find  him,  but  to  no 
purpose.  We  were  relieved  at  length  from  all  doubts  by 
the  arrival  of  some  early  market  men,  who  had  met  such  a 


Cock-fighting  in  Mexico :  Often  Ends  in  a  Fist  Fight. 


man  as  our  guide  far  up  the  river,  and  riding  a  mule  at  full 
gallop. 

What  should  we  do  ?  Follow  him  to  Parida  ?  No  ;  that 
would  be  a  journey  for  nothing.  I  knew  that  he  would  not 
be  fool  enough  to  go  that  way.  Even  if  he  did,  it  would 
have  been  a  fool's  errand  to  seek  for  justice  there,  so  I  deter- 
mined on  leaving  it  over  until  the  return  of  the  traders  would 
enable  me  to  find  the  thief,  and  demand  his  punishment  from 
the  authorities. 


80  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

My  regrets  at  the  loss  of  my  macho  were  not  unmixed  with 
a  sort  of  gratitude  to  the  fellow  when  I  laid  my  hand  upon 
the  nose  of  my  whimpering  charger.  What  hindered  him 
from  taking  the  horse  instead  of  the  mule  ?  It  is  a  question 
I  have  never  been  able  to  answer  to  this  day.  I  can  only- 
account  for  the  fellow's  preference  for  the  mule  on  the  score  ot 
downright  honesty,  or  the  most  perverse  stupidity. 

I  made  overtures  for  another  guide.  I  applied  to  the  Bon- 
iface of  Socorro,  but  without  success.  He  knew  no  "  mozo" 
who  would  undertake  the  journey. 

"  Los  Apaches  !  los  Apaches  !  " 

I  appealed  to  the  peons  and  loiterers  of  the  plaza. 

"  Los  Apaches  !  " 

Wherever  I  went,  I  was  answered  with  "  Los  Apaches," 
and  a  shake  of  the  forefinger  in  front  of  the  nose  ;  a  negative 
sign  over  all  Mexico. 

"  It  is  plain,  Gode,  we  can  get  no  guide.  We  must  try 
this  Jornada  without  one.     What  say  you,  voyageur  ?  " 

"  I  am  agree,  mon  maitre  ;  allons  !  " 

And,  followed  by  my  faithful  compagnon,  with  our  remain- 
ing pack-mule,  I  took  the  road  that  leads  to  the  desert. 
That  night  we  slept  among  the  ruins  of  Valverde  ;  and  the 
next  morning,  after  an  early  start,  embarked  upon  the  "Jour~ 
ney  of  Death." 


Domestic  Life  Among  the  Peons:  Preparing  a  Meal. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE    "JOURNEY    OF    DEATH." 

§H|  N  two  hours  we  reached  the  crossing 
at  Fra  Cristobal.  Here  the  road  parts 
from  the  river,  and  strikes  into  the 
waterless  desert.  We  plunge  through 
the  shallow  ford,  coming  out  on  the  eastern  bank.  We  fill  our 
"  xuages"  with  care,  and  give  our  animals  as  much  as  they 
will  drink.  After  a  short  halt  to  refresh  ourselves,  we  ride 
onward. 

We  have  not  traveled  far  before  we  recognize  the  appro- 
priate name  of  this  terrible  journey.     Scattered  along  the 


82  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

path  we  see  the  bones  of  many  animals.  There  are  human 
bones  too  I  That  white  spheroidal  mass,  with  its  grinning 
rows  and  serrated  sutures,  that  is  a  human  skull.  It  lies 
beside  the  skeleton  of  a  horse.  Horse  and  rider  have  fallen 
together.  The  wolves  have  stripped  them  at  the  same  time- 
They  have  dropped  down  on  their  thirsty  track,  and  perished 
in  despair,  although  water,  had  they  known  it,  was  within 
reach  of  another  effort ! 

We  see  the  skeleton  of  a  mule,  with  the  alpereja  still 
buckled  around  it,  and  an  old  blanket  flapped  and  tossed  by 
many  a  whistling  wind. 

Other  objects,  that  have  been  brought  there  by  human  aid, 
strike  the  eye  as  we  proceed.  A  bruised  canteen,  the  frag- 
ments of  a  glass  bottle,  an  old  hat,  a  piece  of  saddle-cloth,  a 
stirrup  red  with  rust,  a  broken  strap,  with  many  like  symbols, 
are  strewn  along  our  path,  speaking  a  melancholy  language. 

We  are  still  only  on  the  border  of  the  desert.  We  are 
fresh.  How  when  we  have  traveled  over  and  neared  the 
opposite  side  ?     Shall  we  leave  such  souvenirs  ? 

We  are  filled  with  painful  forebodings,  as  we  look  across 
the  arid  waste  that  stretches  indefinitely  before  us.  We  do 
not  dread  the  Apache.     Nature  herself  is  the  enemy  we  fear. 

Taking  the  wagon  tracks  for  our  guide,  we  creep  on.  We 
grow  silent,  as  if  we  were  dumb.  The  mountains  of  Cris- 
tobal sink  behind  us,  and  we  are  almost  "  out  of  sight  of 
land."  We  can  see  the  ridges  of  the  Sierra  Blanca  away  to 
the  eastward ;  but  before  us,  to  the  south,  the  eye  encounters 
no  mark  or  limit. 

The  sun  grows  hotter  and  hotter.  I  knew  this  would  be 
the  case  when  we  started.  It  was  one  of  those  cool  morn- 
ings with  fog  on  the  river  and  in  the  air.  In  all  my  wander- 
ings through  many  climes,  I  have  observed  such  mornings  to 
be  the  harbingers  of  sultry  hours  at  noon. 

The  sun  is  climbing  upward,  and  every  moment  his  rays  be- 


THE       JOURNEY   OF    DEATH. 


83 


come  fiercer  and  more  fervid.  There  is  a  strong  wind  blow- 
ing, but  it  does  not  fan  us  into  coolness.  On  the  contrary,  it 
lifts  the  burning  crystals,  and  spits  them  painfully  in  our  faces. 
The  sun  has  climbed  to  the  zenith.  We  toil  on  through 
the  yielding  sand.     For  miles  we  see  no  traces  of  vegeta- 


The  Jornada,  or  Journey  of  Death :  Northern  Mexico. 


tion.  The  wagon  tracks  guide  us  no  longer.  The  drift  has 
obscured  them. 

We  enter  a  plain  covered  with  artemisia  and  clumps  of  the 
hideous  greasewood. 

The  warped  and  twisted  branches  impede  our  progress. 
For  hours  we  ride  through  thickets  of  the  bitter  sage,  and  at 
length  enter  another  region,  sandy  and  rolling.  Long  arid 
spurs   shoot   down   from   the   mountains,  and  decline  into 


84  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

ridges  of  dry  shifting  sand.  Now  not  even  the  silvery  leaf  of 
the  artemisia  cheers  our  path.  Before  us  we  see  nothing 
but  barren  waste,  trackless  and  treeless. 

A  tropical  sun  glances  up  from  the  brilliant  surface,  and 
we  are  almost  blinded  by  the  refracted  rays.  The  wind 
blows  more  lightly,  and  clouds  of  dust  load  the  air,  sweeping 
slowly  along. 

We  push  forward  without  guide  or  any  object  to  indicate 
our  course.  We  are  soon  in  the  midst  of  bewilderment. 
A  scene  of  seeming  enchantment  springs  up  around  us. 
Vast  towers  of  sand,  borne  up  by  the  whirlblast,  rise  verti- 
cally to  the  sky.  They  move  to  and  fro  over  the  plain. 
They  are  yellow  and  luminous.  The  sun  glistens  among 
their  floating  crystals.  They  move  slowly,  but  they  are  ap- 
proaching us. 

I  behold  them  with  feelings  of  awe.  I  have  heard  of  trav- 
elers lifted  in  their  whirling  vortex,  and  dashed  back  again 
from  fearful  heights. 

The  pack-mule,  frightened  at  the  phenomenon,  breaks  the 
lasso  and  scampers  away  among  the  ridge.  Gode  has  gal- 
lope'd  in  pursuit.     I  am  alone. 

Nine  or  ten  gigantic  columns  now  appear,  stalking  over 
the  plain  and  circling  gradually  around  me.  There  is  some- 
thing unearthly  in  the  sight.  They  resemble  creatures  of  a 
phantom  world.     They  seem  endowed  with  demon  life. 

Two  of  them  approach  each  other.  There  is  a  short 
ghastly  struggle  that  ends  in  their  mutual  destruction.  The 
sand  is  precipitated  to  the  earth,  and  the  dust  floats  off  in  dun 
shapeless  masses. 

Several  have  shut  me  within  a  space,  and  are  slowly  clos- 
ing upon  me.  My  dog  howls  and  barks.  The  horse  cowers 
with  affright,  and  shivers  between  my  thighs,  uttering  ter- 
rified expressions. 

I  am  irresolute.     I  sit  in  my  saddle  waiting  the  result,  with 


THE    "JOURNEY   OF    DEATH."  85 

an  indescribable  feeling.  My  ears  are  filled  with  a  buzzing 
sound,  like  the  hum  of  machinery.  My  eyes  distort  the  nat- 
ural hues  into  a  fiery  brightness.  My  brain  reels.  Strange 
objects  appear.     The  fever  is  upon  me  ! 

The  laden  currents  clash  in  their  wild  torsion.  I  am 
twisted  around  and  torn  from  my  saddle.  My  eyes,  mouth, 
and  ears  are  filled  with  dust.  Sand,  stones,  and  branches 
strike  me  spitefully  in  the  face  ;  and  I  am  flung  with  vio- 
lence to  the  earth  ! 

I  lay  for  a  moment  where  I  had  fallen,  half  buried  and 
blind.  I  could  perceive  that  thick  clouds  of  dust  were  still 
sweeping  over  me. 

I  was  neither  stunned  nor  hurt ;  and  I  began  to  grope 
around  me,  for  as  yet  I  could  see  nothing.  My  eyes  were 
full  of  sand,  and  pained  me  exceedingly.  Throwing  out 
my  arms,  I  felt  for  my  horse ;  I  called  him  by  name.  A 
low  whimper  answered  me.  I  staggered  towards  the  spot, 
and  laid  my  hands  upon  him ;  he  was  down  upon  his  flank. 
I  seized  the  bridle,  and  he  sprang  up  ;  but  I  could  feel  that 
he  was  shivering  like  an  aspen. 

I  stood  by  his  head  for  nearly  half  an  hour,  rubbing  the 
dust  from  my  eyes,  and  waiting  until  the  simoom  might  settle 
away.  At  length  the  atmosphere,  grew  clearer,  and  I  could 
see  the  sky ;  but  the  sand  still  drifted  along  the  ridges,  and  I 
could  not  distinguish  the  surface  of  the  plain.  There  were 
no  signs  of  Gode.  He  might  be  near  me  notwithstanding  ; 
and  I  shouted  loudly,  calling  him  by  name.  I  listened,  but 
there  was  no  answer.  Again  I  raised  my  voice,  and  with  a 
like  result.     There  was  no  sound  but  the  singing  of  the  wind. 

I  mounted  and  commenced  riding  over  the  plain  in  search 
of  my  comrade.     I  had  no  idea  of  what  direction  he  had  taken. 

I  made  a  circuit  of  a  mile  or  so,  still  calling  his  name 
as  I  went,     I  received  no  reply,  and  could  see  no  traces  upon 


86  THE   SCALP- HUNTERS. 

the  ground.  I  rode  for  an  hour,  galloping  from  ridge  to  ridge 
but  still  without  meeting  any  signs  of  my  comrade  or  the 
mules.  I  pulled  up  in  despair.  I  had  shouted  until  I  was 
faint  and  hoarse.     I  could  search  no  longer. 

I  was  thirsty,  and  would  drink.  O  God  1  my  xuages  are 
broken !     The  pack-mule  has  carried  off  the  water-skin. 

The  crushed  calabash  still  hung  upon  its  thong  ;  but  the 
last  drops  it  had  contained  were  trickling  down  the  flanks 
of  my  horse.  I  knew  that  I  might  be  fifty  miles  from 
water ! 

You  cannot  understand  the  fearfulness  of  this  situation. 
You  live  in  a  northern  zone ;  in  a  land  of  pools  and  streams 
and  limpid  springs.  You  have  never  felt  thirst.  You  know 
not  the  want  of  water.  It  gushes  from  every  hill-side,  and 
you  have  grown  fastidious  about  its  quality.  You  complain 
of  its  hardness,  its  softness,  or  its  want  of  crystal  purity. 
How  unlike  the  denizen  of  the  desert,  the  voyageur  of  the 
prairie  sea !  Water  is  his  chief  care,  his  ever-present  solici- 
tude ;  water  the  divinity  he  worships. 

Hunger  he  can  stifle,  so  long  as  a  patch  of  his  leathern 
garment  hangs  to  him.  Should  game  not  appear,  he  can  trap 
the  marmot,  catch  the  lizard,  and  gather  the  prairie  crickets. 
He  knows  every  root  and  seed  that  will  sustain  life.  Give 
him  water,  and  he  will  live  and  struggle  on.  He  will,  in 
time,  crawl  out  of  the  desert.  Without  this,  he  may  chew 
the  leaden  bullet  or  the  pebble  of  chalcedony.  He  may  split 
the  spheroid  cactus,  and  open  the  intestines  of  the  butchered 
buffalo,  but  in  the  end  he  must  die.  Without  water,  even  in 
the  midst  of  plenty,  plenty  of  food,  he  must  die.  Ha  !  you 
know  not  thirst.  It  is  a  fearful  thing.  In  the  wild  western 
desert  it  is  the  thirst  that  kills. 

No  wonder  I  was  filled  with  despair.  I  believed  myself 
to  be  about  the  middle  of  the  Jornada.  I  knew  that  I  could 
never  reach  the  other  side  without  water.     The  yearning  had 


THE    "JOURNEY  OF   DEATH."  87 

already  begun.  My  throat  and  tongue  felt  shriveled  and 
parched.  Thirst  and  fever  had  done  it.  The  desert  dust, 
too,  had  contributed  its  share.  Fierce  desires  already 
gnawed  me  with  ceaseless  tooth. 

I  had  lost  all  knowledge  of  the  course  I  should  take.  The 
mountains,  hitherto  my  guide,  seemed  to  trend  in  every  direc- 
tion.    Their  numerous  spurs  puzzled  me. 

I  remembered  hearing  of  a  spring,  the  Ojo  del  Muerto, 
that  was  said  to  lie  westward  of  the  trail.  Sometimes  there 
was  water  in  the  spring.  On  other  occasions  travelers  had 
reached  it  only  to  find  the  fountain  dried  up,  and  leave  their 
bones  upon  its  banks.      So  ran  the  tales  in  Socorro. 

For  some  minutes  I  vacillated  ;  and  then,  pulling  the  right 
rein  of  my  bridle  almost  involuntarily,  I  headed  my  horse 
westward.  I  would  seek  the  spring,  and,  should  I  fail  to 
find  it,  push  on  to  the  river.  This  was  turning  out  of  my 
course ;  but  I  must  reach  the  water  and  save  my  life. 

I  sat  in  my  saddle,  faint  and  choking,  leaving  my  animal 
to  go  at  will.     I  had  lost  the  energy  to  guide  him. 

He  went  many  miles  westward,  for  the  sun  told  me  the 
course.  I  was  suddenly  roused  from  my  stupor.  A  glad 
sight  was  before  me.  A  lake  ! — a  lake  shining  like  crystal. 
Was  I  certain  I  saw  it  ?  Could  it  be  the  mirage  ?  No.  Its 
outlines  were  too  sharply  defined.  It  had  not  that  filmy 
whitish  appearance  which  distinguishes  the  latter  phenome- 
non.    No.     It  was  not  the  mirage.     It  was  water ! 

I  involuntarily  pressed  the  spur  against  the  side  of  my 
horse  ;  but  he  needed  not  that.  He  had  already  eyed  the 
water,  and  sprang  forward  inspirited  with  new  energy.  The 
next  moment  he  was  in  it  up  to  his  flanks. 

I  flung  myself  from  the  saddle  with  a  plunge.  I  was 
about  to  lift  the  water  in  my  concave  palms,  when  the  actions 
of  my  horse  attracted  me.  Instead  of  drinking  greedily,  he 
stood  tossing  his  head  with  snorts  of  disappointment.     My 


88  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

dog,  too,  refused  to  lap,  and  ran  along  the  shore  whining 
and  howling. 

I  knew  what  this  meant ;  but,  with  that  common  obstinacy 
which  refuses  all  testimony  but  the  evidence  of  the  senses,  I 
lifted  some  drops  in  my  hand,  and  applied  them  to  my  lips. 
They  were  briny  and  burning.  I  might  have  known  this 
before  reaching  the  lake,  for  I  had  ridden  through  a  salt 
incrustation  that  surrounded  it  like  a  belt  of  snow.  But  my 
brain  was  fevered  ;  my  reason  had  left  me. 

It  was  of  no  use  remaining  where  I  was.  I  climbed  back 
into  my  saddle,  and  rode  along  the  shore,  over  fields  of 
snow-white  salt.  Here  and  there  my  horse's  hoof  rang 
against  bleaching  bones  of  animals,  the  remains  of  many  a 
victim.  Well  was  this  lake  named  the  Laguna  del  Muerto  : 
the  "  Lake  of  Death  !  " 

Reaching  its  southern  point,  I  again  headed  westward,  in 
hopes  of  striking  the  river. 

From  this  time  until  a  later  period,  when  I  found  myself 
in  a  far  different  scene,  I  have  no  distinct  memories.  In- 
cidents I  remember,  unconnected  with  each  other,  but  never- 
theless real.  These  are  linked  in  my  memory  with  others 
so  wild  and  improbable  that  I  can  only  consider  the  latter  as 
fancies  of  the  madness  that  was  then  upon  me.  But  some 
were  real.  My  reason  must  have  returned  at  intervals,  by 
some  strange  oscillation  of  the  brain. 

I  remember  dismounting  on  a  high  bank.  I  must  have 
traveled  unconsciously  for  hours  before,  for  the  sun  was  low 
down  on  the  horizon  as  I  alighted.  It  was  a  very  high  bank 
— a  precipice — and  below  me  I  saw  a  beautiful  river  sweep- 
ing onward  through  groves  of  emerald  greenness.  I  thought 
there  were  many  birds  fluttering  in  the  groves,  and  their 
voices  rang  in  delicious  melody.  There  was  fragrance  on 
the  air,  and  the  scene  below  me  seemed  an  Elysium.  I 
thought  that  around  where  I  stood  all  was  bleak,  and  barren, 


THE    "JOURNEY    OF    DEATH."  89 

and  parched  with  intolerable  heat.  I  was  tortured  with  a 
slakeless  thirst  that  grew  fiercer  as  I  gazed  on  the  flowing 
water.  These  were  real  incidents.  All  this  was  true. 
****** 
I  must  drink.  I  must  to  the  river.  It  is  cool  sweet  water. 
Oh!  I  must  drink.  What!  A  horrid  cliff!  No;  I  will 
not  go  down  there.  I  can  descend  more  easily  here.  Who 
are  these  forms  ?  Who  are  you,  sir  ?  Ah  !  it  is  you,  my 
brave  Moro  ;  and  yo.u,  Alp.  Come  !  come !  Follow  me  ! 
Down  ;  down  to  the  river  !  Ah  !  again  that  accursed  cliff  ! 
Look  at  the  beautiful  water  !  It  smiles.  It  ripples  on,  on, 
on !  Let  us  drink.  No,  not  yet ;  we  cannot  yet.  We 
must  go  farther.  Ugh  !  Such  a  height  to  leap  from  !  But 
we  must  drink,  one  and  all.  Come,  Gode' !  Come,  Moro, 
old  friend  !  Alp,  come  on  !  We  shall  reach  it ;  we  shall 
drink.  Who  is  Tantalus  ?  Ha  !  ha  !  Not  I  ;  not  I !  Stand 
back,  fiends  !     Do  not  push  me  over  !     Back  !     Back,  I  say  ! 

Oh! 

****** 

I  thought  that  forms — many  of  them — forms  strange  and 
fiend-like,  clustered  around  me,  and  dragged  me  to  the  brink 
of  the  cliff.  I  was  launched  out  into  the  air.  I  felt  myself 
falling,  falling,  falling,  and  still  came  no  nearer  to  the  green 
trees  and  the  bright  water,  though  I  could  see  them  shining 
below  me. 

I  am  upon  a  rock,  a  mass  of  vast  dimensions  ;  but  it  is 
not  at  rest.  It  is  swimming  onward  through  empty  space. 
I  cannot  move  myself.  I  lie  helpless,  stretched  along  its 
surface,  while  it  sweeps  onward.  It  is  an  aerolite.  It  can 
be  nothing  but  that.  O  God !  there  will  be  a  terrible  col- 
lision when  it  strikes  some  planet  world  !  Horror !  horror ! 
****** 

I  am  lying  on  the  ground,  the  ground   of  the  earth.     It 


90 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


upheaves  beneath  me,  and  oscillates   to   and  fro   like  the 
undulations  of  an  earthquake ! 

#  #  #  #  *  # 

Part  of  all  this  was  a  reality ;  part  was  a  dream,  a  dream 
that  bore  some  resemblance  to  the  horrors  of  a  first  intoxica- 
tion. 


INDIAN  DuM^g 


:iLlfc5g£^«a^a^sSg*»f^**aBbafcC<SSB 


CHAPTER  XII. 


ZOE. 


LAY  tracing  the  figures  upon 
the  curtains.  They  were  scenes 
of  the  olden  time :  mailed 
knights,  helmed  and  mounted, 
dashing  at  each  other  with  couched 
lances,  or  tumbling  from  their  horses, 
pierced  by  the  spear.  Other  scenes 
there  were :  noble  dames,  sitting  on  Flemish  palfreys, 
and  watching  the  flight  of  the  merlin  hawk.  There  were 
pages  in  waiting,  and  dogs  of  curious  and  extinct  breeds 
held  in  the  leash.  Perhaps  these  never  existed  except  in 
the  dreams  of  some  old-fashioned  artist ;  but  my  eye  fol- 
lowed their  strange  shape  with  a  sort  of  half-idiotic  wonder. 
I  was  forcibly  impressed  with  the  noble  features  of  the 
dames.  Was  that,  too,  a  fancy  of  the  painter  ?  or  were 
those  divine  outlines  of  face  and  figure  typical  of  the  time  ? 
If  so,  no  wonder  that  corslets  were  crushed  and  lances 
shivered  for  their  smiles. 

Metallic  rods  upheld  the  curtains  ;  rods  that  shone  brightly, 

91 


92  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

and  curved  upwards,  forming  a  canopy.  My  eyes  ran  along 
these  rods,  scanning  their  configuration,  and  admiring,  as  a 
child  admires,  the  regularity  of  their  curves.  I  was  not  in 
my  own  land.  These  things  were  strange  to  me.  "  Yet," 
thought  I,  "  I  have  seen  something  like  them  before,  but 
where  ?  Oh  !  this  I  know,  with  its  broad  stripes  and  silken 
texture :  it  is  a  Navajo  blanket !  Where  was  I  last  ?  In 
New  Mexico  ?  Yes.  Now  I  remember  :  the  Jornada  !  but 
how  came  I ? 

"  Can  I  untwist  this  ?  It  is  close  woven  ;  it  is  wool,  fine 
wool.     No,  I  cannot  separate  a  thread  from 

"  My  fingers  !  how  white  and  thin  they  are  !  and  my  nails, 
blue,  and  long  as  the  talons  of  a  bird  !  I  have  a  beard  1  I 
feel  it  on  my  chin.  What  gave  me  a  beard  ?  I  never  wear 
it ;  I  will  shave  it  off — ha  !  my  mustache  ! 

"  The  knights,  how  they  tilt  at  each  other  !  Bloody  work  ! 
That  bold  fellow,  the  smaller  too,  will  unhorse  the  other.  I 
can  tell  from  the  spring  of  his  horse  and  the  way  he  sits  him. 
Horse  and  rider  are  one  now.  The  same  mind  unites  them 
by  a  mysterious  link.  The  horse  feels  with  his  rider.  They 
cannot  fail  to  conquer  charging  thus. 

Those  beautiful  ladies  !  She  with  the  hawk  perched  on 
her  arm,  how  brilliant !  how  bold,  yet  lovely  !  " 

I  was  wearied,  and  slept  again. 

*  #  *  *  #  # 

Once  more  my  eyes  were  tracing  the  figures  upon  the 
curtains  :  the  knights  and  dames,  the  hounds,  hawks,  and 
horses.  But  my  brain  had  become  clearer,  and  music  was 
flowing  into  it.     I  lay  silent,  and  listened. 

The  voice  was  a  female's.  It  was  soft  and  finely  mod- 
ulated. Some  one  played  upon  a  stringed  instrument.  I 
recognized  the  tones  of  the  Spanish  harp,  but  the  song  was 
French,  a  song  of  Normandy  ;  and  the  words  were  in  the 
language  of  that  romantic  land.     I  wondered  at  this,  for  my 


zoe.  93 

consciousness  of  late  events  was  returning  ;  and  I  knew  that 
I  was  far  from  France. 

The  light  was  streaming  over  my  couch ;  and  turning  my 
face  to  the  front,  I  saw  that  the  curtains  were  drawn 
aside. 

I  was  in  a  large  room,  oddly  but  elegantly  furnished. 
Human  figures  were  before  me,  seated  and  standing.  Some 
were  reclining  upon  the  floor  ;  others  were  seated  on  chairs 
and  ottomans ;  and  all  appeared  to  be  busy  with  some  oc- 
cupation. I  thought  there  were  many  figures,  six  or  eight 
at  the  least.  This  proved  to  be  an  illusion.  I  found  that  the 
objects  before  me  made  duplicate  impressions  upon  my 
diseased  retina  ;  and  everything  appeared  to  exist  in  pairs, 
the  counterparts  of  each  other.  After  looking  steadily  for  a 
while,  my  vision  became  more  distinct  and  reliable ;  and  I 
saw  that  there  were  but  three  persons  in  the  room,  a  man  and 
two  females. 

I  remained  silent,  not  certain  but  that  the  scene  before  me 
was  only  some  new  phase  of  my  dream.  My  eyes  wandered 
from  one  of  the  living  figures  to  another,  without  attracting 
the  attention  of  any  of  them. 

They  were  all  in  different  attitudes,  and  occupied  dif- 
ferently. 

Nearest  me  was  a  woman  of  middle  age,  seated  upon  a  low 
ottoman.  The  harp  I  had  heard  was  before  her,  and  she 
continued  to  play.  She  must  have  been,  I  thought,  when 
young,  a  woman  of  extreme  beauty.  She  was  still  beautiful 
in  a  certain  sense.  The  noble  features  were  there,  though 
I  could  perceive  that  they  had  been  scathed  by  more  than 
ordinary  suffering  of  the  mind.  The  silken  surface  had 
yielded  to  care  as  well  as  time. 

She  was  a  Frenchwoman  :  an  ethnologist  could  have  told 
that  at  a  glance.  Those  lines,  the  characteristics  of  her  high- 
ly  gifted  race,  were  easily  traceable.     I  thought  there  was  a 


94  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

time  when  that  face  had  witched  many  a  heart  with  its  smiles. 
There  were  no  smiles  on  it  now,  but  a  deep  yet  intellectual 
expression  of  melancholy.  This  I  perceived  too  in  her  voice, 
in  her  song,  in  every  note  that  vibrated  from  the  strings  of 
the  instrument. 

My  eye  wandered  farther.  A  man  of  more  than  middle 
age  stood  by  the  table,  near  the  center  of  the  room.  His 
face  was  turned  towards  me,  and  its  nationality  was  as  easily 
determined  as  that  of  the  lady.  The  high  florid  cheeks,  the 
broad  front,  the  prominent  chin,  the  small  green  cap  with  its 
long  peak  and  conical  crown,  the  blue  spectacles,  were  all 
characteristics.  He  was  a  German.  It  was  a  face  not 
intellectual  in  its  expression  ;  yet  have  men  with  such  a 
physiognomy  given  proofs  of  intellectual  research  in  every 
department  of  science  and  art ;  research  deep  and  wonderful, 
with  ordinary  talents  and  extraordinary  labor ;  labor  Her- 
culean that  knows  no  wearying ;  Pelion  piled  on  Ossa.  I 
thought  of  this   as  I  scanned  the  features  of  the  man. 

His  occupation  was  also  characteristic  of  his  nationality. 
Before  him  were  strewed  over  the  table,  and  upon  the  floor, 
the  objects  of  his  study  :  plants  and  shrubs  of  various  species. 
He  was  busy  with  these,  classifying  and  carefully  laying  them 
out  between  the  leaves  of  his  portfolio.  It  was  evident  that 
the  old  man  was  a  botanist. 

A  glance  to  the  right,  and  the  naturalist  and  his  labors 
were  no  longer  regarded.  I  was  looking  upon  the  loveliest 
object  that  ever  came  before  my  eyes,  and  my  heart  bounded 
within  me,  as  I  strained  forward  in  the  intensity  of  its  ad- 
miration. The  iris  on  the  summer  shower,  the  rosy  dawn, 
the  brilliant  hues  of  the  bird  of  Juno,  are  bright  soft  things. 
Blend  them,  blend  all  the  beauties  of  nature  in  one  harmo- 
nious whole,  and  there  will  still  be  wanting  that  mysterious 
essence  that  enters  the  heart  of  the  beholder  while  gazing 
upon  the  loveliness  of  the  female  form. 


zoe.  95 

Of  all  created  things,  there  is  none  so  fair,  none  so  lovely 
as  a  lovely  woman  ! 

Yet  it  was  not  a  woman  that  held  my  gaze  captive,  but 
a  child — a  girl — a  maid — standing  upon  the  threshold  of 
womanhood,  ready  to  cross  it  at  the  first  summons  of  Love  1 

Men  call  beauty  an  arbitrary  thing,  a  fancy,  a  caprice, 
a  fashion,  that  to  which  we  are  used.  How  often  do  we  hear 
this  hackneyed  opinion,  while  he  who  utters  it  revels  in  the 
conceit  of  his  own  wisdom  1 

"  Every  eye  forms  its  own  beauty."  A  false  and  shallow 
sophism.  We  might  as  well  declare  that  every  palate  forms 
its  own  taste.  Is  honey  sweet  ?  Is  wormwood  bitter  ?  Yes ; 
in  both  cases  sweet  and  bitter  to  the  child  or  the  man,  to 
the  savage  or  the  civilized,  to  the  ignorant  and  the  educated. 
This  is  true  under  all  circumstances,  unless,  indeed,  where 
caprice,  habit  or  fashion,  forms  the  exception.  Why  then 
deny  to  one  sense  what  all  the  others  so  palpably  possess  ? 
Has  not  the  human  eye,  in  its  natural  state,  its  likes  and  its 
dislikes  ?  It  has,  and  the  laws  that  regulate  them  are  as 
fixed  and  unerring  as  the  orbits  of  the  stars.  We  do  not 
know  these  laws  ;  but  that  they  exist  we  know,  and  can 
prove  it  as  clearly  as  Leverrier  determined  the  existence 
of  Neptune  :  a  world  within  reach  of  telescopic  vision,  yet 
wheeling  for  millions  of  years  undetected  by  the  sleepless 
sentinels   of  astronomy. 

Why  does  the  eye  rove  with  delight  around  the  outlines  of 
the  circle  ;  along  the  curve  of  the  ellipse ;  of  every  section 
of  the  cone  ?  Why  does  it  roam  transported  along  the  line  of 
Hogarth  ?  Why  does  it  grieve  when  this  line  is  broken  ? 
Ah !  these  are  its  likes  and  its  dislikes,  its  sweets  and  its 
bitters,  its  honey  and  its  wormwood. 

Beauty,  then,  is  not  an  arbitrary  thing.  The  fancy,  the 
conventionalism,  is  not  in  the  object,  but  in  the  eye  of 
the  gazer;  the  eye  uneducated,  vulgar,  or  perchance  dis- 


96  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

torted  by  fashion.  Forms  and  colors  are  beautiful,  indepen- 
dently of  all  opinions  regarding  them. 

There  is  a  still  higher  point  which  may  be  established  in 
connection  with  this  theory  :  an  intellectual  cause  can  be  as- 
signed why  an  object  is  beautiful  or  otherwise.  Intellect  has 
its  forms  and  shapes  in  the  physical  world.  It  dwells  in 
beauty  notwithstanding  the  many  apparent  contradictions. 
Ugliness,  hideous  word  !  must  exert  itself  to  obtain  what 
beauty  commands  without  an  effort.  Hence  you  see  dis- 
tinction, the  presumptive  proof  of  intellectual  greatness,  so 
often  coupled  with  physical  plainness.  Hence  the  homely 
histrionic  artiste,  hence  the  female  bibliographer,  hence  the 
"  blue."  On  the  other  hand,  Beauty  sits  enthroned  like  a 
queen  or  a  goddess.  She  makes  no  effort,  because  she  feels 
not  the  necessity.  The  world  approaches  at  her  slightest 
summons,  and  spreads  its  offerings  at  her  feet. 

These  thoughts  did  not  all  pass  through  my  mind,  though 
some  of  them  did,  while  my  eyes,  delighted,  reveled  along 
the  graceful  curves  that  outlined  the  beautiful  being  before 
me.  I  thought  I  had  seen  the  face  somewhere.  I  had,  but 
a  moment  before,  while  looking  upon  that  of  the  elder  lady. 
They  were  the  same  face — using  a  figure  of  speech — the 
type  transmitted  from  mother  to  daughter;  the  same  high 
front  and  facial  angle,  the  same  outline  of  the  nose,  straight 
as  a  ray  of  light,  with  the  delicate  spiral-like  curve  of  the 
nostrils,  which  meets  you  in  the  Greek  medallion.  Their 
hair,  too,  was  alike  in  color,  golden  ;  though,  in  that  of  the 
mother,  the  gold  showed  an  enamel  of  silver.  The  tresses 
of  the  girl  were  like  sunbeams,  straying  over  a  neck  and 
shoulders  that,  for  delicate  whiteness,  might  have  been  chis- 
eled from  the  stones  of  Carrara. 

All  this  may  seem  high  language  :  figurative,  if  you  will. 
I  can  neither  write  nor  speak  otherwise  on  this  theme.  I 
will  desist,  and  spare  details,  which  to  you  may   be  of  little 


zoe.  97 

interest.  In  return,  do  me  the  favor  to  believe,  that  the 
being  who  impressed  me  then  and  for  ever  was  beautiful,  was 
lovely. 

"  Ah !  it  wod  be  ver  moch  kindness  if  madame  and 
ma'm'selle  wod  play  la  Marseillaise,  la  grande  Marseillaise. 
What  say  mein  liebe  fraulein  !  " 

"  Zoe,  Zoe  !  take  thy  bandolin.  Yes,  doctor,  we  will  play 
it  for  you  with  pleasure.  You  like  the  music.  So  do  we. 
Come,  Zoe  !  " 

The  young  girl,  who,  up  to  this  time,  had  been  watching 
intently  the  labors  of  the  naturalist,  glided  to  a  remote  corner 
of  the  room,  and  taking  up  an  instrument  resembling  the 
guitar,  returned  and  seated  herself  by  her  mother.  The 
bandolin  was  soon  placed  in  concert  with  the  harp,  and  the 
strings  of  both  vibrated  to  the  thrilling  notes  of  the  "  Mar- 
seillaise." 

There  was  something  exceedingly  graceful  in  the  perform- 
ance. The  instrumentation,  as  I  thought,  was  perfect ;  and  the 
voices  of  the  players  accompanied  it  in  a  sweet  and  spirited 
harmony.  As  I  gazed  upon  the  girl  Zoe,  her  features  an- 
imated by  the  thrilling  thoughts  of  the  anthem,  her  whole  coun- 
tenance radiant  with  light,  she  seemed  some  immortal  being  ; 
a  young  goddess  of  liberty  calling  her  children  "  to  arms  !  " 

The  botanist  had  desisted  from  his  labors,  and  stood  listen- 
ing with  delighted  attention.  At  each  return  of  the  thrilling 
invocation  "  Aux  arjjies,  citoycns  /"  the  old  man  snapped  his 
fingers,  and  beat  the  floor  with  his  feet,  marking  the  time  of 
the  music.  He  was  filled  with  the  same  spirit  which  at  that 
time,  over  all  Europe,  was  gathering  to  its  crisis. 

"  Where  am  I  ?  French  faces,  French  music,  French 
voices,  and  the  conversation  in  French  !  "  for  the  botanist 
addressed  the  females  in  that  language,  though  with  a  strong 
Rhenish  patois,  that  confirmed  my  first  impression  of  his 
nationality.  "  Where  am  I  ?  " 
7 


98  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

My  eye  ran  around  the  room  in  search  of  an  answer.  I 
could  recognize  the  furniture  :  the  cross-legged  Campeachy 
chairs,  a  rebozo,  the  palm-leaf  petatk.     "  Ha,  Alp  1  " 

The  dog  lay  stretched  along  the  mattress  near  my  couch, 
and  sleeping. 

"Alp!  Alp!" 

"  Oh,  mama  !  mama  !  dcoutez  !  the  stranger  call." 

The  dog  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  throwing  his  forepaws 
upon  the  bed,  stretched  his  nose  towards  me  with  a  joyous 
whimpering.  I  reached  out  my  hand,  and  patted  him,  at 
the  same  time  giving  utterance  to  some  expressions  of  en- 
dearment. 

"  Oh,  mama  !  mama  he  knows  him.     Voila." 

The  lady  rose  hastily,  and  approached  the  bed.  The 
German  seized  me  by  the  wrist,  pushing  back  the  St.  Bernard, 
which  was  bounding  to  spring  upward. 

"  Mon  Dieu  !  he  is  well.  His  eyes,  doctor.  How 
changed !  " 

"  Ya,  ya ;  moch  better ;  ver  moch  better.  Hush !  away, 
tog  !     Keep  away,  mine  goot  tog  !  " 

"  Who  ?  where  ?     Tell  me,  where  am  I  ?     Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  Do  not  fear  !     We  are  friends  :  you  have  been  ill !  " 

"  Yes,  yes !  we  are  friends  :  you  have  been  ill,  sir.  Do 
not  fear  us ;  we  will  watch  you.  This  is  the  good  doctor. 
This  is  mama,  and  I  am " 

"  An  angel  from  heaven,  beautiful  Zoe  1  " 

The  child  looked  at  me  with  an  expression  of  wonder,  and 
blushed  as  she  said — 

"  Hear,  mama  1     He  knows  my  name  1 " 

It  was  the  first  compliment  she  had  ever  received  from 
the  lips  of  love. 

"  It  is  goot,  madame  :  he  is  ver  moch  relieft ;  he  ver  soon 
get  over  now.  Keep  away,  mine  goot  Alp !  Your  master 
he  get  well :  goot  tog,  down  I  " 


zoe.  99 

•  Perhaps,  doctor,  we  should  leave  him.     The  noise " 


"  No,  no  !  if  you  please,  stay  with  me.  The  music  ;  will 
you  play  again  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  music,  is  ver  goot :  ver  goot  for  te  pain." 

"  Oh,  mama  !  let  us  play,  then." 

Both  mother  and  daughter  took  up  their  instruments,  and 
again  commenced  playing. 

I  listened  to  the  sweet  strains,  watching  the  fair  musicians 
a  long  while.  My  eyes  at  length  became  heavy,  and  the 
realities   before   me   changed   into   the   soft  outlines   of  a 

dream. 

****** 

My  dream  was  broken  by  the  abrupt  cessation  of  the  music. 
I  thought  I  heard,  through  my  sleep,  the  opening  of  a  door. 
When  I  looked  to  the  spot  lately  occupied  by  the  musicians, 
I  saw  that  they  were  gone.  The  bandolin  had  been  thrown 
down  upon  the  ottoman,  where  it  lay,  but  she  was  not  there. 

I  could  not,  from  my  position,  see  the  whole  of  the  apart- 
ment ;  but  I  knew  that  some  one  had  entered  at  the  outer 
door.  I  heard  expressions  of  welcome  and  endearment,  a 
rustling  of  dresses,  the  words  "Papa!"  "My  little  Zoe;" 
the  latter  uttered  in  the  voice  of  a  man.  Then  followed 
some  explanations  in  a  lower  tone,  which  I  could  not  hear. 

A  few  minutes  elapsed,  and  I  lay  silent  and  listening. 
Presently  there  were  footsteps  in  the  hall.  A  boot,  with  its 
jingling  rowels,  struck  upon  the  tiled  floor.  The  footsteps 
entered  the  room,  and  approached  the  bed.  I  started,  as  I 
looked  up.     The  Scalp-hunter  was  before  me  1 


Mexican  Women  Kneading  Tortillas, 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


SEGUIN. 

OU  are  better  ;  you  will  soon  be 
well  again.  I  am  glad  to  see  that 
you  recover." 

He  said  this  without   offering 
his  hand. 

"  I  am  indebted  to  you  for  my 
life.     Is  it  not  so  ?  " 

It  is  strange  that  I  felt  con- 
vinced of  this  the  moment  that 
I  set  my  eyes  upon  the  man.  I 
think  such  an  idea  crossed  my  mind  before,  after  awaking 
from  my  long  dream.  Had  I  encountered  him  in  my 
struggles  for  water,  or  had  I  dreamed  it  ? 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  answered  he,  with  a  smile,  "  but  you  will  re- 
ioo 


SEGUIN.  101 

member  that  I  had  something  to  do  with  your  being  exposed 
to  the  risk  of  losing  it." 

"  Will  you  take  this  hand  ?     Will  you  forgive  me  ?  " 

After  all,  there  is  something  selfish  even  in  gratitude. 
How  strangely  had  it  changed  my  feelings  towards  this  man  ! 
I  was  begging  the  hand  which,  but  a  few  days  before,  in  the 
pride  of  my  morality,  I  had  spurned  from  me  as  a  loathsome 
thing. 

But  there  were  other  thoughts  that  influenced  me.  The 
man  before  me  was  the  husband  of  the  lady  ;  was  the  father 
of  Zoe.  His  character,  his  horrid  calling,  were  forgotten  ; 
and  the  next  moment  our  hands  were  joined  in  the  embrace 
of  friendship. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  forgive.  I  honor  the  sentiment  that 
induced  you  to  act  as  you  did.  This  declaration  may  seem 
strange  to  you.  From  what  you  knew  of  me,  you  acted 
rightly ;  but  there  may  be  a  time,  sir,  when  you  will  know 
me  better :  when  the  deeds  which  you  abhor  may  seem  not 
only  pardonable,  but  justifiable.  Enough  of  this  at  present. 
The  object  of  my  being  now  at  your  bedside  is  to  request 
that  what  you  do  know  of  me  be  not  uttered  here." 

His  voice  sank  to  a  whisper  as  he  said  this,  pointing  at 
the  some  time  towards  the  door  of  the  room. 

"  But  how,"  I  asked,  wishing  to  draw  his  attention  from 
this  unpleasant  theme,  "  how  came  I  into  this  house  ?  It  is 
yours,  I  perceive.  How  came  I  here  ?  Where  did  you  find 
me?" 

"  In  no  very  safe  position,"  answered  he,  with  a  smile. 
"  I  can  scarcely  claim  the  merit  of  saving  you.  Your  noble 
horse  you  may  thank  for  that." 

"  Ah,  my  horse  !  my  brave  Moro  !     I  have  lost  him." 

"  Your  horse  is  standing  at  the  maize-trough,  not  ten 
paces  from  where  you  lie.  I  think  you  will  find  him  in 
somewhat  better  condition  than  when  you  last   saw   him. 


102  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

Your  mules  are  without.     Your  packs  are  safe.     You  will 
find  them  here,"  and  he  pointed  to  the  foot  of  the  bed. 
«  And " 

"  Gode  you  would  ask  for,"  said  he,  interrupting  me. 
"  Do  not  be  uneasy  on  his  account.  He,  too,  is  in  safety. 
He  is  absent  just  now,  but  will  soon  return." 

"  How  can  I  thank  you  ?  This  is  good  news  indeed.  My 
brave  Moro  !  and  Alp  here  !  But  how  ?  you  say  my  horse 
saved  me.     He  has  done  so  before  :  how  can  this  be  ?  " 

"  Simply  thus  :  we  found  you  many  miles  from  this  place, 
on  a  cliff  that  overlooks  the  Del  Norte.  You  were  hang- 
ing over  on  your  lasso,  that  by  a  lucky  accident  had  become 
entangled  around  your  body.  One  end  of  it  was  knotted  to 
the  bit-ring,  and  the  noble  animal,  thrown  back  upon  his 
haunches,  sustained  your  weight  upon  his  neck !  " 

"  Noble  Moro  !  what  a  terrible  situation  !  " 

"  Ay,  you  may  say  that  1  Had  you  fallen  from  it,  you 
would  have  passed  through  a  thousand  feet  of  air  before 
striking  the  rocks  below.  It  was  indeed  a  fearful  situa- 
tion." 

"  I  must  have  staggered  over  in  my  search  for  water." 

"  In  your  delirium  you  walked  over.  You  would  have 
done  so  a  second  time  had  we  not  prevented  you.  When 
we  drew  you  up  on  the  cliff,  you  struggled  hard  to  get  back. 
You  saw  the  water  below,  but  not  the  precipice.  Thirst  is 
a  terrible  thing :  an  insanity  of  itself." 

"  I  remember  something  of  all  this.  I  thought  it  had  been 
a  dream." 

"  Do  not  trouble  your  brain  with  these  things.  The 
doctor  here  admonishes  me  to  leave  you.  I  have  an  object, 
as  I  have  said "  (here  a  sad  expression  passed  over  the 
countenance  of  the  speaker),  "  else  I  should  not  have  paid 
you  this  visit.  I  have  not  many  moments  to  spare.  To- 
night I  must  be  far  hence.     In  a  few  days  I   shall  return. 


SEGUIN. 


103 


Meanwhile,  compose  yourself,  and  get  well.  The  doctor 
here  will  see  that  you  want  for  nothing.  My  wife  and 
daughter  will  nurse  you." 

"  Thanks  1  thanks  !  " 

"  You  will  do  well  to  remain  where  you  are  until  your 
friends  return  from  Chihuahua.  They  must  pass  not  far 
from  this  place,  and  I  will  warn  you  when  they  are  near. 


Heathenish  Rites  Among  Mexican  Indians. 

You  are  a  student.  There  are  books  here  in  different 
languages.  Amuse  yourself.  They  will  give  you  music. 
Monsieur,  adieu  !  " 

"  Stay,  sir,  one  moment !  You  seem  to  have  taken  a 
strange  fancy  to  my  horse  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  monsieur,  it  was  no  fancy  ;  but  I  will  explain  that 
at  some  other  time.     Perhaps  the  necessity  no  longer  exists." 

"  Take  him,  if  you  will.     Another  will  serve  my  purpose. 


104 


THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 


"  No,  monsieur.  Do  you  think  I  could  rob  you  of  what 
you  esteem  so  highly,  and  with  such  just  reason,  too  ?  No, 
no !  Keep  the  good  Moro.  I  do  not  wonder  at  your  at- 
tachment to  the  noble  brute." 

"  You  say  that  you  have  a  long  journey  to-night.  Then 
take  him  for  the  time." 

"  That  offer  I  will  freely  accept,  for  indeed  my  own  horse 
is  somewhat  jaded.  I  have  been  two  days  in  the  saddle. 
Well,  adieu !  " 

Seguin  pressed  my  hand  and  walked  away.  I  heard  the 
"  chinck,  chinck  "  of  his  spurs  as  he  crossed  the  apartment, 
and  the  next  moment  the  door  closed  behind  him. 

I  was  alone,  and  lay  listening  to  every  sound  that  reached 
me  from  without.  In  about  half  an  hour  after  he  had  left 
me  I  heard  the  hoof-strokes  of  a  horse,  and  saw  the  shadow 
of  a  horseman  passing  outside  the  window.  He  had  de- 
parted on  his  journey,  doubtless  on  the  performance  of  some 
red  duty  connected  with  his  fearful  avocation  ! 

I  lay  for  a  while  harassed  in  mind  thinking  of  this  strange 
man.  Then  sweet  voices  interrupted  my  meditations;  be- 
fore me  appeared  lovely  faces,  and  the  Scalp-hunter  was 
forgotten. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


LOVE. 


WOULD  compress  the  history  of  the 

ten  days  following  into  as  many  words. 

I  would  not  weary  you  with  the  details 

of  my  love  :  a  love  that  in  the  space 

of  a  few  hours  became  passion  deep  and  ardent. 

I  was  young  at  the  time  ;  at  just  such  an  age  as  to  be 
impressed  by  the  romantic  incidents  that  surrounded  me, 
and  had  thrown  this  beautiful  being  in  my  way ;  at  that  age 
when  the  heart,  unguarded  by  cold  calculations  of  the  future, 
yields  unresistingly  to  the  electrical  impressions  of  love.  I 
say  electrical.  I  believe  that  at  this  age  the  sympathies  that 
spring  up  between  heart  and  heart  are  purely  of  this  nature. 
At  a  later  period  of  life  that  power  is  dissipated  and  di- 
vided. Reason  rules  it.  We  become  conscious  of  the  capa- 
bility of  transferring  our  affections,  for  they  have  already 
broken  faith ;  and  we  lose  that  sweet  confidence  that  com- 
forted the  loves  of  our  youth.  We  are  either  imperious  or 
jealous,  as  the  advantages  appear  in  our  favor  or  against  us. 
A  gross  alloy  enters  into  the  love  of  our  middle  life,  sadly 
detracting  from  the  divinity  of  its  character. 

105 


106  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

I  might  call  that  which  I  then  felt  my  first  real  passion. 
I  thought  I  had  loved  before,  but  no,  it  was  only  a  dream  ; 
the  dream  of  the  village  schoolboy,  who  saw  heaven  in  the 
bright  eyes  of  his  coy  classmate ;  or  perhaps,  at  the  family 
picnic,  in  some  romantic  dell,  had  tasted  the  rosy  cheek  of 
his  pretty  cousin. 

I  grew  strong,  and  with  a  rapidity  that  surprised  the  skil- 
ful man  of  herbs.  Love  fed  and  nourished  the  fire  of  life. 
The  will  often  effects  the  deed,  and  say  as  you  may,  volition 
has  its  power  upon  the  body.  The  wish  to  be  well,  to  live, 
an  object  to  live  for,  are  often  the  speediest  restoratives. 
They  were  mine. 

I  grew  stronger,  and  rose  from  my  couch.  A  glance  at 
the  mirror  told  me  that  my  color  was  returning. 

Instinct  teaches  the  bird  while  wooing  his  mate  to  plume 
his  pinions  to  their  highest  gloss  ;  and  a  similar  feeling  now 
rendered  me  solicitous  about  my  toilet.  My  portmanteau 
was  ransacked,  my  razors  were  drawn  forth,  the  beard  disap- 
peared from  my  chin,  and  my  mustache  was  trimmed  to  its 
wonted  dimensions. 

I  confess  all  this.  The  world  had  told  me  I  was  not  ill- 
looking,  and  I  believed  what  it  said.  I  am  mortal  in  my 
vanities.     Are  not  you  ? 

With  her,  Zoe,  child  of  nature  in  its  most  perfect  inno- 
cence, there  were  no  such  conceits.  The  trickery  of  the 
toilet  never  entered  into  her  thoughts.  She  knew  not  of  the 
graces  which  had  been  so  lavishly  bestowed  upon  her.  No 
one  had  ever  told  her  of  her  beauty.  I  had  learned  the 
strange  fact,  that,  except  her  father,  the  old  botanist,  and 
the  pueblo  peons,  the  servants  of  the  house,  I  was  the  only 
person  of  my  sex  she  had  ever  seen  since  a  very  early 
period  of  her  life  !  For  years  had  she  and  her  mother 
lived  in  the  seclusion  of  their  own  home  :  a  seclusion  as 
complete  as  that  of   a  convent.     There  was  a  mystery  in 


LOVE.  107 

all  this,  and  it  was  only  afterwards  that  it  was  revealed 
to  me. 

Hers,  then,  was  a  virgin  heart,  pure  and  spotless ;  a  heart 
into  whose  soft  dreams  the  light  of  love  had  not  yet  flung 
its  ray ;  against  whose  holy  innocence  love's  god  had  not 
yet  winged  a  single  arrow. 

Are  you  of  my  sex  ?  Have  you  ever  desired  to  become 
the  lord  of  a  heart  like  this  ?  If  you  can  answer  these  inter- 
rogations in  the  affirmative,  then  do  I  tell  you,  what  you 
may  well  remember,  that  any  exertions  you  made  to  attain 
this  end  were  idle.     You  were  loved  at  once,  or  never ! 

The  virgin  heart  is  not  gained  by  the  finesse  of  court- 
ship. It  has  no  half-way  likings,  that  may  yield  to  tender 
assiduity  on  your  part.  An  object  either  attracts  or  repels 
it,  and  the  impression  is  quick  as  the  lightning's  flash.  It 
is  the  throwing  of  a  die  :  you  have  won  or  you  have  won  not. 
If  the  latter,  you  may  as  well  desist.  No  effort  can  over- 
come the  obstacle,  and  produce  the  emotion  of  love.  Friend- 
ship you  may  gain  :  love  never.  No  coquetry  of  yours  can 
make  that  heart  jealous ;  no  favors  you  may  bestow  can 
cause  it  to  love  you.  You  may  conquer  worlds,  yet  not  con- 
trol its  secret  and  silent  throbbings.  You  may  be  the  hero 
of  a  thousand  tongues ;  yet  he  whose  image  has  been  flung 
into  that  little  heart  will  be  its  hero,  higher  and  nobler  than 
all  others.  That  fair  young  creature,  its  owner,  will  be 
wholly  his,  however  humble,  however  worthless  he  may  be. 
With  her  there  will  be  no  reservation,  no  reasoning,  no  cau- 
tion, no  cunning.  She  will  yield  alone  to  the  mystic  prompt- 
ings of  nature.  Under  their  influence  she  will  bind  her 
whole  heart  to  the  altar,  even  when  she  knows  that  he  will 
make  it  a  bleeding  sacrifice  ! 

Is  it  thus  with  the  heart  more  matured,  oft  assailed  ?  with 
the  belle — the  coquette?  No.  Rejected  here,  you  need 
not   despair.     You   may  tiave    qualities  that   will   in  time 


io8 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


change  the  frown  to  a  smile.  You  may  do  great  deeds. 
You  may  achieve  renown  ;  and  the  scorn  that  once  repelled 
you  may  become  humility  at  your  feet.  Still  this  may  be 
love,  and  strong  love  too,  founded  upon  the  admiration  of 
some  intellectual,  or,  perhaps,  physical  quality  which  you 
have  thus  proved  yonrself  possessed  of.     It  is  a  love  guided 


by  reason,  and  not  the  mysterious  instinct  that  rules  the  for- 
mer. On  which  of  these  loves  do  men  build  the  highest 
triumph  ?  Of  which  are  they  most  proud  ?  Of  the  latter  ? 
Alas !  no  ;  and  let  Him  who  made  us  answer  why ;  but  1 
never  saw  the  man  who  would  not  ^ther  be  beloved  for  the 
beauties  of  his  person  than  the  exvllences  of  his  mind.     You  may 


LOVE.  109 

blame  me  for  this  declaration.  You  may  deny  it.  It  is 
true.  Oh  !  there  is  no  joy  so  sweet,  no  triumph  so  thrilling, 
as  when  we  have  drawn  to  our  bosom  the  quivering  little 
captive  whose  heart  throbs  with  the  pure  pulsations  of  a 
maiden  love  ! 

These  are  after-thoughts.  I  was,  at  the  time  I  am  writing 
about,  too  young  to  have  reasoned  thus  ;  too  little  skilled  in 
love's  diplomacy  ;  and  yet  many  a  process  of  reasoning  passed 
through  my  mind,  and  many  a  scheme  was  devised,  to  en- 
able me  to  discover  whether  I  was  then  beloved. 

There  was  a  guitar  in  the  house.  I  had  learnt  in  my  col- 
lege days  to  touch  the  strings,  and  its  music  delighted  both 
Zoe  and  her  mother.  I  sang  to  them  the  songs  of  my  own 
land — songs  of  love  ;  and  with  a  throbbing  heart  watched 
whether  the  burning  words  produced  any  impression  upon 
her.  More  than  once  I  have  laid  aside  the  instrument  with 
feelings  of  disappointment. 

From  day  to  day,  strange  reflections  passed  through  my 
mind.  Could  it  be  that  she  was  too  young  to  understand 
the  import  of  the  word  love  ?  too  young  to  be  inspired  with 
a  passion  ?  She  was  but  twelve  years  of  age,  but  then  she 
was  the  child  of  a  sunny  clime  ;  and  I  had  often  seen  at  that 
age,  under  the  warm  sky  of  Mexico,  the  wedded  bride,  the 
fond  mother. 

Day  after  day  we  were  together  alone.  The  botanist  was 
busy  with  his  studies,  and  the  silent  mother  occupied  with 
the  duties  of  her  household. 

Love  is  not  blind.  It  may  be  to  all  the  world  beside  ; 
but  to  its  own  object  it  is  as  watchful  as  Argus. 


I  was  skilled  in  the  use  of  the  crayon,  and  I  amused  my 
companion  by  sketches  upon  scraps  of  paper  and  the  blank 
leaves  of  her  music.     Many  of  these  were  the  figures  of 


110  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

females,  in  different  attitudes  and  costumes.  In  one  respect 
they  resembled  each  other  :  their  faces  were  alike. 

The  child,  without  divining  the  cause,  had  noticed  this 
peculiarity  in  the  drawings. 

"  Why  is  it  ?  "  she  asked  one  day,  as  we  sat  together. 
"  These  ladies  are  all  in  different  costumes,  of  different  na- 
tions ;  are  they  not  ?  and  yet  there  is  a  resemblance  in  their 
faces  !  They  have  all  the  same  features  ;  indeed  exactly  the 
same,  I  think." 

"  It  is  your  face,  Zoe  ;  I  can  sketch  no  other." 

She  raised  her  large  eyes,  and  bent  them  upon  me  with 
an  expression  of  innocent  wonder.  Was  she  blushing  ? 
No! 

"  Is  that  like  me  ?  " 

"  It  is,  as  nearly  as  I  can  make  it." 

"  And  why  do  you  not  sketch  other  faces  ?  " 

"  Why !  because  I Zoe,  I  fear  you  would  not  under- 
stand me." 

"  Oh,  Enrique  ;  do  you  think  me  so  bad  a  scholar  ?  Do 
I  not  understand  all  that  you  tell  me  of  the  far  countries  where 
you  have  been  ?     Surely  I  may  comprehend  this  as  well." 

"I  will  tell  you,  then,  Zoe." 

I  bent  forward,  with  a  burning  heart  and  trembling 
voice. 

"  It  is  because  your  face  is  ever  before  me  ;  I  can  paint 
no  other.     It  is,  that I  love  you,  Zoe  !  " 

Oh !  is  that  the  reason  ?  And  when  you  love  one,  her 
face  is  always  before  you,  whether  she  herself  be  present  or 
no  ?     Is  it  not  so  ?  " 

"  It  is  so,"  I  replied,  with  a  painful  feeling  of  disappoint- 
ment. 

"  And  is  that  love,  Enrique  ?  " 

"  It  is." 

"Then  must  Hove  you  ;  for,  wherever  I  may  be,  I  can 


LOVE.  Ill 

see  your  face :  how  plainly  before  me  !  If  I  could  use  this 
pencil  as  you  do,  I  am  sure  I  could  paint  it,  though  you 
were  not  near  me  !  What  then  ?  Do  you  think  Hove  you, 
Enrique  ? " 

No  pen  could  trace  my  feelings  at  that  moment.  We 
were  seated  ;  and  the  sheet  on  which  were  the  sketches  was 
held  jointly  between  us.  My  hand  wandered  over  its  sur- 
face, until  the  unresisting  fingers  of  my  companion  were 
clasped  in  mine.  A  wilder  emotion  followed  the  electric 
touch :  the  paper  fell  upon  the  floor ;  and  with  a  proud  but 
trembling  heart  I  drew  the  yielding  form  to  mine  ! 

There  was  no  resistance.  Our  lips  met  in  the  first  kiss : 
a  kiss  of  reciprocal  love.  I  felt  her  heart  throb  and  flutter 
as  she  lay  upon  my  breast.  Oh,  joy  I  joy  1  I  was  the  lord  of 
that  little  heart  / 


A  Bridge  in  Spanish  America. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

LIGHT    AND    SHADE. 

HE  house  we  inhabited  stood  in  a 
quadrangular  enclosure  that  sloped 
down  to  the  banks  of  the  river,  the  Del 
Norte'.  This  enclosure  was  a  garden  or 
shrubbery,  guarded  on  all  sides  by  high 
thick  walls  of  adobe.  Along  the  summit  of  these  walls  had 
been  planted  rows  of  the  cactus,  that  threw  out  huge  thorny 
limbs  forming  an  impassable  chevaux-de-frzse.  There  was 
but  one  entrance  to  the  house  and  garden,  through  a  strong 
wicket  gate,  which  I  had  noticed  was  always  shut  and  barred. 
I  had  no  desire  to  go  abroad.  The  garden,  a  large  one, 
hitherto  had  formed  the  limit  of  my  walk  ;  and  through  this 
I  often  rambled  with  Zoe  and  her  mother,  but  oftener  with 
Zoe  alone. 

There  were  many  objects  of  interest  about  the  place.  It 
was  a  ruin  ;  and  the  house  itself  bore  evidence  of  better 
times.  It  was  a  large  building  in  the  Moro-Spanish  style, 
with  flat  roof  (azotea),  and  notched   parapet  running  along 

112 


.LIGHT  AND   SHADE.  H3 

the  front.  Here  and  there  the  little  stone  turrets  of  this 
parapet  had  fallen  off,  exhibiting  evidence  of  neglect  and 
decay. 

The  garden  bore  these  symptoms  throughout  its  whole  ex- 
tent ;  at  the  same  time,  in  its  ruins  you  might  read  ample 
testimony  of  the  great  care  that  had  once  been  bestowed 
upon  it.  Crumbling  statues,  dry  fountains,  ruined  arbors, 
weed-grown  walks,  attested  its  former  grandeur,  its  present 
neglect.  There  were  many  trees  of  singular  and  exotic 
species,  but  there  was  a  wildness  in  the  appearance  of  their 
fruit  and  foliage,  and  they  had  grown  into  thickets  interlac- 
ing each  other.  There  was  a  free  beauty,  however,  in  this 
very  wildness  that  charmed  one ;  and  the  sense  was  further 
delighted  with  the  aroma  of  a  thousand  flowers,  that  contin- 
ually floated  upon  the  air. 

The  walls  of  the  garden  impinged  upon  the  river,  and 
there  ended  ;  for  the  bank  was  steep  and  vertical,  and  the 
deep  still  water  that  ran  under  it  formed  a  sufficient  protec- 
tion on  that  side. 

A  thick  grove  of  cotton-woods  fringed  the  bank  of  the 
river,  and  under  their  shade  had  been  erected  a  number  of 
seats  of  japanned  mason-work,  in  a  style  peculiar  to  Spanish 
countries.  There  were  steps  cut  in  the  face  of  the  bank, 
overhung  with  drooping  shrubs,  and  leading  to  the  water's 
edge.  I  had  noticed  a  small  skiff  moored  under  the  wil- 
lows, where  these  steps  went  down  to  the  water. 

From  this  point  only  could  you  see  beyond  the  limits  of 
the  enclosure.  The  view  was  magnificent,  and  commanded 
the  windings  of  the  Del  Norte  for  a  distance  of  miles. 

The  country  outside  seemed  wild  and  uninhabited.  Nearly 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  range,  the  beautiful  frondage  of  the 
cotton-wood  groves  covered  the  landscape,  and  cast  its  soft 
shadows  on  the  river.  Southward,  away  near  the  horizon's 
edge,  a  single  spire  glanced  over  the  tops  of  the  trees.  This 
8 


114  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

was  the  church  of  El  Paso  del  Norte,  whose  vine-clad  hills 
could  be  seen  rising  against  the  distant  background  of  the 
sky.  Along  the  east  towered  the  Rocky  Mountains  :  the  mys- 
terious chain  of  the  Organos,  whose  dark  summit  lake,  with 
its  ebbing  tides,  inspires  the  lone  hunter  with  a  superstitious 
terror.  To  the  [west,  low  down  and  dimly  seen,  were  the 
twin  ranges  of  the  Mimbres :  those  mountains  of  gold, 
whose  desert  passes  rarely  echo  the  tread  of  a  human  foot. 
Even  the  reckless  trapper  turns  aside  when  he  approaches 
that  unknown  land  that  stretches  northward  from  the  Gila : 
the  land  of  the  Apache  and  the  cannibal  Navajo. 

7T  TT  -Jf  TV  TV  *m" 

Evening  after  evening  we  sought  the  grove  of  cotton-woods, 
and,  seated  upon  one  of  the  benches,  together  watched  the 
glowing  sunset.  At  this  time  of  the  day  we  were  ever  alone, 
I  and  my  little  companion. 

I  have  called  her  my  little  companion,  though  I  thought  at 
this  time  that  she  had  suddenly  grown  to  a  larger  stature,  as- 
suming the  form  and  outlines  of  a  woman !  In  my  eyes,  she 
was  a  child  no  longer.  Her  form  had  become  more  devel- 
oped, her  bosom  rose  higher  in  its  gentle  undulations,  and 
her  movements  appeared  to  me  womanlike  and  command- 
ing. Her  color,  too,  seemed  heightened,  and  a  radiant  bril- 
liance sported  over  her  features.  The  lovelight  streaming 
from  her  large  brown  eyes  added  to  their  liquid  luster.  There 
was  a  change  of  mind  and  body.  It  was  the  mystic  trans- 
formation of  love.     She  was  under  the  influence  of  its  god  ! 

*Jv  v?  tv  TV  TV  TV 

One  evening,  as  usual,  we  sat  under  the  solemn  shadow 
of  the  grove.  We  had  brought  with  us  the  guitar  and 
bandolin  ;  but  after  a  few  notes  had  been  struck,  the  music 
was  forgotten,  and  the  instruments  lay  upon  the  grass  at  our 
feet.     We  loved  to  listen  to  the  music  of  our  own  voices. 


LIGHT   AND   SHADE.  115 

We  preferred  the  utterance  of  our  own  thoughts  to  the 
sentiments  of  any  song,  however  sweet.  There  was  music 
enough  around  us  :  the  hum  of  the  wild  bee  as  it  bade  fare- 
well to  the  closing  corolla  ;  the  "  whoop  "  of  the  gruya  in 
the  distant  sedge  ;  and  the  soft  cooing  of  the  doves  as  they 
sat  in  pairs  upon  the  adjacent  branches,  like  us  whispering 
their  mutual  loves. 

Autumn  had  now  painted  the  woods,  and  the  frondage  was 
of  every  hue.  The  shadows  of  the  tall  trees  dappled  the 
surface  of  the  water,  as  the  stream  rolled  silently  on.  The 
sun  was  far  down,  and  the  spire  of  El  Paso  gleamed  like  a 
golden  star  under  the  parting  kiss  of  his  beams.  Our  eyes 
wandered,  and  rested  upon  the  glittering  vane. 

"  The  church  1  "  half  soliloquized  my  companion  ;  "  I 
hardly  know  what  it  is  like,  it  is  so  long  since  I  saw  it." 

"  How  long  ?  " 

"  Oh,  many,  many  years  :  I  was  very  young  then." 

"  And  you  have  not  been  beyond  these  walls  since  then  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes  !  Papa  has  taken  us  down  the  river  in  the  boat, 
mama  and  myself,  often,  but  not  lately." 

"  And  have  you  no  wish  to  go  abroad  through  these  gay 


wooas 


"  I  do  not  desire  it ;  I  am  contented  here." 

"  But  will  you  always  be  contented  here  ?  " 

"  And  why  not,  Enrique  ?  When  you  are  near  me,  why 
should  I  not  be  happy  ?  " 

"  But  when " 

A  dark  shadow  seemed  to  cross  her  thoughts.  Benighted 
with  love,  she  had  never  reflected  upon  the  probability  of  my 
leaving  her,  nor  indeed  had  I.  Her  cheeks  became  suddenly 
pale  ;  and  I  could  see  the  agony  gathering  in  her  eyes,  as  she 
fixed  them  upon  me.     But  the  words  were  out 

"  When  I  must  leave  you  ?  " 

She  threw  herself  on  my  breast,  with  a  short,  sharp  scream, 


Il6  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

as  though  she  had  been  stung  to  the  heart,  and  in  an  impas- 
sioned voice  cried  aloud — 

"  Oh  !  my  God,  my  God  1  leave  me  I  leave  me  I  Oh  !  you 
will  not  leave  me  ?  You  who  have  taught  me  to  love  /  Oh  1 
Enrique,  why  did  you  tell  me  that  you  loved  me  ?  Why  did 
you  teach  me  to  love  ?  " 

"  Zoe I  " 

"  Enrique,  Enrique  !  say  you  will  not  leave  me  ? " 

"  Never !  Zoe  !     I  swear  it !  never,  never  !  " 

I  fancied  at  this  moment  I  heard  the  stroke  of  an  oar ; 
but  the  wild  tumult  of  my  feelings,  and  the  close  embrace  of 
my  betrothed,  who  in  the  transport  of  reaction  had  twined 
her  arms  around  me,  prevented  me  from  rising  to  look  over 
the  bank.  It  was  the  plunge  of  the  osprey,  thought  I ;  and 
dismissing  the  thought,  I  yielded  myself  to  the  long  and 
rapturous  kiss.  I  was  raising  my  head  again,  when  an  object, 
appearing  above  the  bank,  caught  my  eye.  It  was  a  black 
sombrero  with  its  golden  band.  I  knew  the  wearer  at  a 
glance :  Seguin  ! 

In  a  moment,  he  was  beside  us. 

"  Papa  !  "  exclaimed  Zoe,  rising  up  and  reaching  forward 
to  embrace  him. 

The  father  put  her  to  one  side,  at  the  same  time  tightly 
grasping  her  hand  in  his.  For  a  moment  he  remained  silent, 
bending  his  eyes  upon  me  with  an  expression  I  cannot  depict. 
There  was  in  it  a  mixture  of  reproach,  sorrow,  and  indigna- 
tion. I  had  risen  to  confront  him,  but  I  quailed  under  that 
singular  glance,  and  stood  abashed  and  silent. 

"  And  this  is  the  way  you  have  thanked  me  for  saving 
your  life,?     A  brave  return,  good  sir  ;  what  think  you  ?  " 

I  made  no  reply. 

"  Sir !  "  continued  he,  in  a  voice  trembling  with  emotion, 
"  you  have  deeply  wronged  me." 

"  I  know  it  not ;  I  have  not  wronged  you." 


LIGHT   AND    SHADE.  117 

"  What  call  you  this  ?     Trifling  with  my  child  !  " 

"  Trifling  1  "  I  exclaimed,  roused  to  boldness  by  the  accu- 
sation. 

"  Ay,  trifling  !     Have  you  not  won  her  affections  ?  " 

"  I  won  them  fairly." 

"  Pshaw,  sir  !  This  is  a  child,  not  a  woman.  Won  them 
fairly  !     What  can  she  know  of  love  ?  " 

"  Papa !  I  do  know  love.  I  have  felt  it  for  many  days. 
Do  not  be  angry  with  Enrique,  for  I  love  him ;  oh,  papa  1  in 
my  heart  I  love  him  !  " 

He  turned  to  her  with  a  look  of  astonishment. 

"  Hear  this  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Oh,  heavens  !  my  child, 
my  child !  " 

His  voice  stung  me,  for  it  was  full  of  sorrow. 

"  Listen,  sir  !  "  I  cried  placing  myself  directly  before  him. 
"  I  have  won  the  affections  of  your  daughter.  I  have  given 
mine  in  return.  I  am  her  equal  in  rank,  as  she  is  mine. 
What  crime,  then,  have  I  committed?  Wherein  have  I 
wronged  you  ?  " 

He  looked  at  me  for  some  moments  without  making  any 
reply. 

"  You  would  marry  her,  then  ?  "  he  said,  at  length,  with 
an  evident  change  in  his  manner. 

"  Had  I  permitted  our  love  thus  far,  without  that  intention, 
I  should  have  merited  your  reproaches.  I  should  have  been 
'  trifling,'  as  you  have  said." 

"  Marry  me  !  "  exclaimed  Zoe,  with  a  look  of  bewilderment. 

"  Listen  !  Poor  chile'1  ?  she  knows  not  the  meaning  of  the 
word ! " 

"  Ay,  lovely  Zoe  !  I  will ;  else  my  heart,  like  yours,  shall 
be  wrecked  forever  !     Oh,  sir  !  " 

"  Come,  sir,  enough  of  this.  You  have  won  her  from 
herself  ;  you  have  yet  to  win  her  from  me.  I  will  sound  the 
depth  of  your  affection.     I  will  put  you  to  the  proof." 


u8 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


"  Put  me  to  any  proof  !  " 

"  We  shall  see  ;  come  !  let  us  in.     Here,  Zoe  !  " 

And,  taking  her  by  the  hand,  he  led  her  towards  the 
house.     I  followed  close  behind. 

As  we  passed  through  a  clump  of  wild  orange  trees,  the 
path  narrowed  ;  and  the  father,  letting  go  her  hand,  wal'ked 
on  ahead.  Zoe  was  between  us ;  and  as  we  reached  the 
middle  of  the  grove,  she  turned  suddenly,  and  laying  her 
hand  upon  mine,  whispered  in  a  trembling  voice,  "  En- 
rique tell  me,  what  is  '  to  marry  1 '  " 

"  Dearest  Zoe !  not  now  ;  it  is  too  difficult  to  explain ; 
another  time,  I " 

"  Come,  Zoe  :  your  hand,  child  1  " 

"  Papa,  I  am  coming  1  " 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


AN     AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


WAS  alone  with  my  host  in  the  apart- 
ment I  had  hitherto  occupied.  The 
females  had  retired  to  another  part 
of  the  house ;  and  I  noticed  that 
Seguin,  on  entering,  had  looked  to  the  door,  turning  the  bolt. 

What  terrible  proof  was  he  going  to  exact  of  my  faith,  of 
my  love  ?  Was  he  about  to  take  my  life  or  bind  me  by  some 
fearful  oath,  this  man  of  cruel  deeds  ?  Dark  suspicions  shot 
across  my  mind,  and  I  sat  silent,  but  not  without  emotions 
of  fear. 

A  bottle  of  wine  was  placed  between  us,  and  Seguin, 
pouring  out  two  glasses,  asked  me  to  drink.  This  courtesy 
assured  me.  "  But  how  if  the  wine  be  poi— ?  "  He  swal- 
lowed his  own  glass  before  the  thought  had  fairly  shaped  itself. 

"  I  am  wronging  him,"  thought  I.  "  This  man,  with  all, 
is  incapable  of  an  act  of  treachery  like  that." 

I  drank  up  the  wine.  It  made  me  feel  more  composed 
and  tranquil. 

After  a  moment's  silence  he  opened  the  conversation  with 
the  abrupt  interrogatory,  "  What  do  you  know  of  me  ?  " 

"  Your  name  and  calling  :  nothing  more." 


120  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  More  than  is  guessed  at  here  ;  "  and  he  pointed  signifi- 
cantly to  the  door.     "  Who  told  you  thus  much  of  me  ?  " 

"  A  friend,  whom  you  saw  at  Santa  Fe." 

"  Ah  !  St.  Vrain  ;  a  brave,  bold  man.  I  met  him  once  in 
Chihuahua.     Did  he  tell  you  no  more  of  me  than  this  ?  " 

"  No.  He  promised  to  enter  into  particulars  concerning 
you,  but  the  subject  was  forgotten,  the  caravan  moved  on, 
and  we  were  separated." 

"  You  heard,  then,  that  I  was  Seguin  the  Scalp-hunter  ? 
That  I  was  employed  by  the  citizens  of  El  Paso  to  hunt  the 
Apache  and  Navajo,  and  that  I  was  paid  a  stated  sum  for 
every  Indian  scalp  I  could  hang  upon  their  gates  ?  You 
heard  all  this  ?  " 

« I  did." 

"  It  is  true." 

I  remained  silent. 

"Now,  sir,"  he  continued,  after  a  pause,  "would  you 
marry  my  daughter,  the  child  of  a  wholesale  murderer  ?  " 

"  Your  crimes  are  not  hers.  She  is  innocent  even  of  the 
knowledge  of  them,  as  you  have  said.  You  may  be  a 
demon  ;  she  is  an  angel." 

There  was  a  sad  expression  on  his  countenance  as  I  said 
this. 

"  Crimes  !  demon  1  "  he  muttered  half  in  soliloquy.  "  Ay, 
you  may  well  think  this :  so  judges  the  world.  You  have 
heard  the  stories  of  the  mountain  men  in  all  their  red  exag- 
geration. You  have  heard  that,  during  a  treaty,  I  invited  a 
village  of  the  Apaches  to  a  banquet,  and  poisoned  the  viands  : 
poisoned  the  guests,  man,  woman,  and  child,  and  then  scalped 
them !  You  have  heard  that  I  induced  to  pull  upon  the 
drag-rope  of  a  cannon  two  hundred  savages,  who  know  not 
its  uses ;  and  then  fired  the  piece,  loaded  with  grape,  mow- 
ing down  the  row  of  unsuspecting  wretches  1  These,  and 
other  inhuman  acts,  you  have  no  doubt  heard  of  ? " 


AN   AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  121 

"  It  is  true.  I  have  heard  these  stories  among  the  moun- 
tain hunters  ;  but  I  knew  not  whether  to  believe  them." 

"  Monsieur,  they  are  false ;  all  false  and   unfounded." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  this.  I  could  not  now  believe 
you  capable  of  such  babarities." 

"  And  yet,  if  they  were  true  in  all  their  horrid  details,  they 
would  fall  far  short  of  the  cruelties  that  have  been  dealt  out 
by  the  savage  foe  to  the  inhabitants  of  this  defenseless  fron- 
tier. If  you  knew  the  history  of  this  land  of  the  last  ten 
years  ;  its  massacres  and  its  murders  ;  its  tears  and  its  burn- 
ings ;  its  rapes  and  spoliations ;  whole  provinces  depop- 
ulated ;  villages  given  to  the  flames ;  men  butchered  on 
their  own  hearths ;  women,  beautiful  women,  carried  into 
captivity  to  satisfy  the  lust  of  the  desert  robber  1  Oh,  God  ! 
and  I  too  have  shared  wrongs  that  will  acquit  me  in  your 
eyes,  perhaps  in  the  eyes  of  heaven  1  " 

The  speaker  buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  leant  for- 
ward upon  the  table.  He  was  evidently  suffering  from 
some  painful  recollection.     After  a  moment  he  resumed  : — 

"  I  would  have  you  listen  to  a  short  history  of  my  life." 

I  signified  my  assent ;  and  after  filling  and  drinking 
another  glass  of  wine,  he  proceeded. 

"  I  am  not  a  Frenchman,  as  men  suppose.  I  am  a 
Creole,  a  native  of  New  Orleans.  My  parents  were  refugees 
from  St.  Domingo,  where,  after  the  black  revolution,  the  bulk 
of  their  fortune  was  confiscated  by  the  bloody  Christophe. 

"  I  was  educated  for  a  civil  engineer  ;  and,  in  this  capacity, 
I  was  brought  out  to  the  mines  of  Mexico,  by  the  owner  of 
one  of  them,  who  knew  my  father.  I  was  young  at  the  time, 
and  I  spent  several  years  employed  in  the  mines  of  Zacatecas 
and  San  Luis  Potosi. 

"  I  had  saved  some  money  out  of  my  pay,  and  I  began  to 
think  of  opening  upon  my  own  account. 

"  Rumors  had  long  been  current  that  rich  veins  of  gold 


122  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

existed  upon  the  Gila  and  its  tributaries.  The  washings  had 
been  seen  and  gathered  in  these  rivers  ;  and  the  mother  of 
gold,  the  milky  quartz  rock,  cropped  out  everywhere  in 
the  desert  mountains  of  this  wild  region. 

"  I  started  for  this  country  with  a  select  party  ;  and,  after 
traversing  it  for  weeks,  in  the  Mimbres  mountains,  near  the 
head  waters  of  the  Gila,  I  found  the  precious  ore  in  its  bed. 
I  established  a  mine,  and  in  five  years  was  a  rich  man. 

"  I  remembered  the  companion  of  my  youth,  the  gentle, 
the  beautiful  cousin  who  had  shared  my  confidence,  and  in- 
spired me  with  my  first  passion.  With  me  it  was  first  and 
last ;  it  was  not,  as  is  often  the  case  under  similar  circum- 
stances, a  transient  thing.  Through  all  my  wanderings  I 
had  remembered  and  loved  her.  Had  she  been  as  true  to 
me  ? 

"  I  determined  to  assure  myself  ;  and  leaving  my  affairs 
in  the  hands  of  my  mayoral,  I  set  out  for  my  native  city. 

"  Adele  had  been  true ;  and  I  returned,  bringing  her  with 
me. 

"  I  built  a  house  in  Valverde,  the  nearest  inhabited  dis- 
trict to  my  mine. 

"  Valverde  was  then  a  thriving  place ;  it  is  now  a  ruin, 
which  you  may  have  seen  in  your  journey  down. 

"  In  this  place  we  lived  for  years,  in  the  enjoyment  of 
wealth  and  happiness.  I  look  back  upon  those  days  as  so 
many  ages  of  bliss.  Our  love  was  mutual  and  ardent ;  and 
we  were  blessed  with  two  children,  both  girls.  The  youngest 
resembled  her  mother ;  the  other,  I  have  been  told,  was 
more  like  myself.  We  doted,  I  fear  too  much,  on  these 
pledges.     We  were  too  happy  in  their  possession. 

"  At  this  time  a  new  governor  was  sent  to  Santa  Fe ;  a 
man  who,  by  his  wantonness  and  tyranny,  has  since  then 
ruined  the  province.  There  has  been  no  act  too  vile,  no 
crime  too  dark,  for  this  human  monster. 


AN    AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


123 


"  He  offered  fair  enough   at  first,  and  was  feasted  in  the 
houses  of  the    ricos  through  the  valley.     As  I  was  classed 


A  Typical  Scene  in  Spanish  America.     A  Mexican  Ranche. 

among  these,  I  was  honored  with  his  visits,  and  frequently. 
He  resided  principally  at  Albuquerque  ;  and  grand  fetes  were 
given  at  his  palace,  to  which  my  wife  and  I  were  invited  as 


124  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

special  guests.  He  in  return  often  came  to  our  house  in 
Valverde,  under  pretense  of  visiting  the  different  parts  of 
the  province. 

"  I  discovered,  at  length,  that  his  visits  were  solely  in- 
tended for  my  wife,  to  whom  he  had  paid  some  nattering 
attentions. 

"  I  will  not  dwell  on  the  beauty  of  Adele,  at  this  time. 
You  may  imagine  that  for  yourself  ;  and,  monsieur,  you  may 
assist  your  imagination  by  allowing  it  to  dwell  on  those 
graces  you  appear  to  have  discovered  in  her  daughter,  for 
the  little  Zoe  is  a  type  of  what  her  mother  was. 

"  At  the  time  I  speak  of  she  was  still  in  the  bloom  of  her 
beauty.  The  fame  of  that  beauty  was  on  every  tongue, 
and  had  piqued  the  vanity  of  the  wanton  tyrant.  For  this 
reason  I  became  the  object  of  his  friendly  assiduities. 

"  I  had  divined  this ,  but  confiding  in  the  virtue  of  my 
wife,  I  took  no  notice  of  his  conduct.  No  overt  act  of  insult 
as  yet  claimed  my  attention. 

"  Returning  on  one  occasion  from  a  long  absence  at  the 
mines,  Adele  informed  me  what,  through  delicacy,  she  had 
hitherto  concealed,  of  insults  received  from  his  excellency 
at  various  times,  but  particularly  in  a  visit  he  had  paid  her 
during  my  absence. 

"  This  was  enough  for  Creole  blood.  I  repaired  to  Albu- 
querque ;  and  on  the  public  plaza,  in  presence  of  the  multi- 
tude, I  chastised  the  insulter. 

"  I  was  seized  and  thrown  into  a  prison,  where  I  lay  for 
several  weeks.  When  I  was  freed,  and  sought  my  home 
again,  it  was  plundered  and  desolate.  The  wild  Navajo  had 
been  there :  my  household  gods  were  scattered  and  broken  ; 
and  my  child,  oh,  God  !  my  little  Adele,  was  carried  captive 
to  the  mountains  1  " 

"  And  your  wife  ?  your  other  child  ?  "  I  inquired,  eager  to 
know  the  rest. 


AN   AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  125 

"  They  had  escaped.  In  the  terrible  conflict — for  my 
poor  peons  battled  bravely — my  wife,  with  Zoe  in  her  arms, 
had  rushed  out  and  hidden  in  a  cave  that  was  in  the  garden. 
I  found  them  in  the  ranche  of  a  vaquero  in  the  woods, 
whither  they  had  wandered." 

"  And  your  daughter  Adele — have  you  heard  aught  of  her 


since 


"  Yes,  yes  ;  I  will  come  to  that  in  a  moment. 

"  My  mine,  at  the  same  time,  was  plundered  and  de- 
stroyed ;  many  of  the  workmen  were  slaughtered  before  they 
could  escape ;  and  the  work  itself,  with  my  fortune,  became 
a  ruin. 

"  With  some  of  the  miners,  who  had  fled,  and  others  of 
Valverde,  who,  like  me,  had  suffered,  I  organized  a  band, 
and  followed  the  savage  foe ;  but  our  pursuit  was  vain, 
and  we  turned  back,  many  of  us  broken  in  health  and 
heart. 

"  Oh,  monsieur,  you  cannot  know  what  it  is  to  have  thus 
lost  a  favorite  child  !  you  cannot  understand  the  agony  of 
the  bereaved  father  !  " 

The  speaker  pressed  his  head  between  his  hands,  and 
remained  for  a  moment  silent.  His  countenance  bore  the 
indications  of  heartrending  sorrow. 

"  My  story  will  soon  be  told,  up  to  the  present  time.  Who 
knows  the  end  ? 

"  For  years  I  hung  upon  the  frontiers  of  the  Indian  coun- 
try, hunting  for  my  child.  I  was  aided  by  a  small  band, 
most  of  them  unfortunates  like  myself,  who  had  lost  wife  or 
daughter  in  a  similar  manner.  But  our  means  became  ex- 
hausted, and  despair  wore  us  out.  The  sympathies  of  my 
companions  grew  old  and  cold.  One  after  another  gave  up. 
The  governor  of  New  Mexico  offered  us  no  aid.  On  the 
contrary,  it  was  suspected  then — it  is  now  known — that  the 
governor  himself  was  in  secret  league  with  the  Navajo  chiefs. 


126  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

He  had  engaged  to  leave  them  unmolested  ;  while  they,  on 
their  side,  promised  to  plunder  only  his  enemies  ! 

"  On  learning  this  terrible  secret,  I  saw  the  hand  that  had 
dealt  me  the  blow.  Stung  by  the  disgrace  I  had  put  upon 
him,  as  well  as  by  my  wife's  scorn,  the  villain  was  not  slow 
to  avenge  himself. 

"  Since  then  his  life  has  been  twice  in  my  power,  but  the 
taking  of  it  would,  most  probably,  have  forfeited  my  own 
and  I  had  objects  for  which  to  live.  I  may  yet  find  a  reck- 
oning day  for  him. 

"  I  have  said  that  my  band  melted  away.  Sick  at  heart, 
and  conscious  of  danger  in  New  Mexico,  I  left  the  province, 
and  crossed  the  Jornado  to  El  Paso.  Here  for  a  while  I 
lived,  grieving  for  my  lost  child. 

"  I  was  not  long  inactive.  The  frequent  forays  made  by 
the  Apaches  into  Sonora  and  Chihuahua  had  rendered  the 
government  more  energetic  in  the  defense  of  the  frontier. 
The  Presidios  were  repaired  and  garrisoned  with  more 
efficient  troops,  and  a  band  of  rangers  organized,  whose  pay 
was  proportioned  to  the  number  of  scalps  they  might  send 
back  to  the  settlements. 

"  I  was  offered  the  command  of  this  strange  guerilla  ;  and 
in  the  hope  that  I  might  yet  recover  my  child,  I  accepted 
it :  I  became  a  scalp-hunter. 

"  It  was  a  terrible  commission  ;  and  had  revenge  alone 
been  my  object,  it  would  long  since  have  been  gratified. 
Many  a  deed  of  blood  have  we  enacted  ;  Many  a  scene  of 
retaliatory  vengeance  have  we  passed  through. 

"  I  knew  that  my  captive  daughter  was  in  the  hands  of 
the  Navajoes.  I  had  heard  so  at  various  times  from  prisoners 
whom  I  had  taken ;  but  I  was  always  crippled  for  want  of 
strength  in  men  and  means.  Revolution  after  revolution 
kept  the  States  in  poverty  and  civil  warfare,  and  our  interests 
were  neglected  or  forgotten.     With  all  my  exertions,  I  could 


AN   AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  127 

never  raise  a  force  sufficient  to  penetrate  that  desert  country 
north  of  the  Gila,  in  which  lie  the  towns  of  the  savage 
Navajoes." 

"  And  you  think " 

"  Patience  !  I  shall  soon  finish.  My  band  is  now  stronger 
than  ever.  I  have  received  certain  information,  by  one  just 
escaped  from  a  captivity  among  the  Navajoes,  that  the  war- 
riors of  both  tribes  are  about  to  proceed  southward.  They 
are  mustering  all  their  strength,  with  the  intention  of  mak- 
ing a  grand  foray;  even,  as  we  have  heard,  to  the  gates  of 
Durango.  It  is  my  design,  then,  to  enter  their  country  while 
they  are  absent,  and  search  for  my  daughter." 

"  And  you  think  she  still  lives  ?  " 

"  I  know  it.  The  same  who  brought  me  this  news,  and 
who,  poor  fellow,  has  left  his  scalp  and  ears  behind  him, 
saw  her  often.  She  is  grown  up,  and  is,  he  says,  a  sort  of 
queen  among  them,  possessed  of  strange  powers  and  priv- 
ileges. Yes,  she  still  lives  ;  and  if  it  be  my  fortune  to  re- 
cover her,  then  will  this  tragic  scene  be  at  an  end.  I  will 
go  far  hence." 

I  had  listened  with  deep  attention  to  the  strange  recital. 
All  the  disgust  with  which  my  previous  knowledge  of  this 
man's  character  had  inspired  me  vanished  from  my  mind, 
and  I  felt  for  him  compassion ;  ay,  admiration.  He  had 
suffered  much.  Suffering  atones  for  crime,  and  in  my  sight 
he  was  justified.  Perhaps  I  was  too  lenient  in  my  judg- 
ment.    It  was  natural  I  should  be  so. 

When  the  revelation  was  ended,  I  was  filled  with  emotions 
of  pleasure.  I  felt  a  vivid  joy  to  know  that  she  was  not  the 
offspring  of  the  demon  I  had  deemed  him. 

He  seemed  to  divine  my  thoughts  ;  for  there  was  a  smile 
of  satisfaction,  I  might  say  triumph,  on  his  countenance,  as 
he  leaned  across  the  table  to  refill  the  wine. 

"  Monsieur,  my  story  must  have  wearied  you.     Drink  1" 


128  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  as  we  emptied  the  glasses. 

"  And  now,  sir,  you  know  the  father  of  your  betrothed,  at 
least  somewhat  better  than  before.  Are  you  still  in  mind  to 
marry  her  ?  " 

"  Oh,  sir !  she  is  now,  more  than  ever,  to  me  a  sacred 
object." 

"  But  you  must  win  her,  as  I  have  said,  from  me." 

"  Then,  sir,  tell  me  how.  I  am  ready  for  any  sacrifice 
that  may  be  within  my  power  to  make." 

"  You  must  help  me  to  recover  her  sister." 

"  Willingly." 

"  You  must  go  with  me  to  the  desert." 

"  I  will." 

"Enough.  We  start  to-morrow."  And  he  rose,  and  be- 
gan to  pace  the  room. 

"  At  an  early  hour  ?  "  I  inquired,  half  fearing  that  I  was 
about  to  be  denied  an  interview  with  her  whom  I  now  more 
than  ever  longed  to  embrace. 

"  By  daybreak,"  he  replied,  not  seeming  to  heed  my  anx- 
ious manner. 

"  I  must  look  to  my  horse  and  arms,"  said  I,  rising  and 
going  towards  the  door,  in  hopes  of  meeting  her  without. 

"  They  have  been  attended  to  :  Godd  is  there.  Come, 
boy  !  She  is  not  in  the  hall.  Stay  where  you  are.  I  will 
get  the  arms  you  want.  Adele  !  Zoe  1  Oh,  doctor  !  you 
are  returned  with  your  weeds  !  It  is  well.  We  journey  to- 
morrow. Adele,  some  coffee,  love  !  and  then  let  us  have 
some  music.     Your  guest  leaves  you  to-morrow." 

Trie  bright  form  rushed  between  us  with  a  scream. 

"  No,  no,  no,  no  !  "  she  exclaimed,  turning  from  one  to  the 
other,  with  the  wild  appeal  of  a  passionate  heart. 

"  Come,  little  dove  !  "  said  the  father,  taking  her  by  the 
hands  :  "  do  not  be  so  easily  fluttered.  It  is  but  for  a  short 
time.     He  will  return  again." 


AN   AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


129 


"  How  long,  papa  ?     How  long,  Enrique  ?  " 

"  But  a  very  short  while.  It  will  be  longer  to  me  than  to 
you,  Zoe." 

"  Oh  !  no,  no  ;  an  hour  will  be  a  long  time.  How  many 
hours  do  you  think,  Enrique  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  we  shall  be  gone  days,  I  fear." 

"  Days  !     Oh,  papa  !     Oh,    Enrique  !     Days  !  " 

"  Come,  little  chit ;  they  will  soon  pass.  Go !  Help  your . 
mama  to  make  the  coffee." 

"  Oh,  papa  !  Days  ;  long  days.  They  will  not  soon  pass 
when  I  am  alone." 

"  But  you  will  not  be  alone.  Your  mama  will  be  with 
you." 

"  Ah  1  " 

And  with  a  sigh,  and  an  air  of  abstraction,  she  departed 
to  obey  the  command  of  her  father.  As  she  passed  out  at 
the  door,  she  again  sighed  audibly. 

The  doctor  was  a  silent  and  wondering  spectator  of  this 
last  scene ;  and  as  her  figure  vanished  into  the  hall,  I  could 
hear  him  muttering  to  himself — - 

"  Oh,  ja  !     Poor  leetle  fraulein  !     I  thought  as  mosh." 


Indian  Baskets,  Decorated  with  Feathers  and  Quills. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

UP   THE   DEL    NORT£. 

WILL  not  distress  you 
with  a  parting  scene.  We 
were  in  our  saddles  be- 
fore the  stars  had  died 
out  and  riding  along  the  sandy- 
road. 

At  a  short  distance  from  the 
house  the  path  angled,  striking 
into  thick,  heavy  timber.  Here  I 
checked  my  horse,  allowing  my 
companions  to  pass,  and  standing 
in  the  stirrup  looked  back.  My 
eye  wandered  along  the  old  gray 
walls,  and  sought  the  azote'a.  Upon  the  very  edge  of  the 
parapet,  outlined  against  the  pale  light  of  the  aurora,  was  the 
object  I  looked  for.  I  could  not  distinguish  the  features,  but 
I  easily  recognized  the  oval  curvings  of  the  figure,  cut  like 
a  dark  medallion  against  the  sky. 

She  was  standing  near  one  of  the  yuca  palm  trees  that 
grew  up  from  the  azote'a.  Her  hand  rested  upon  its  trunk, 
and  she  bent  forward,  straining  her  gaze  into  the  darkness 
below.  Perhaps  she  saw  the  waving  of  a  kerchief  ;  perhaps 
she  heard  her  name,  and  echoed  the  parting  prayer  that  was 

130 


UP  THE   DEL   NORTE.  131 

sent  back  to  her  on  the  still  breath  of  the  morning.  If  so, 
her  voice  was  drowned  by  the  tread  of  my  chafing  horse, 
that,  wheeling  suddenly,  bore  me  off  into  the  somber  shad- 
ows of  the  forest. 

I  rode  forward,  turning  at  intervals  to  catch  a  glimpse  of 
those  lovely  outlines,  but  from  no  other  point  was  the  house 
visible.  It  lay  buried  in  the  dark  majestic  woods.  I  could 
only  see  the  long  bayonets  of  the  picturesque  palmills ;  and 
our  road  now  descending  among  hills,  these  too  were  soon 
hidden  from  my  view. 

Dropping  the  bridle,  and  leaving  my  horse  to  go  at 
will,  I  fell  into  a  train  of  thoughts  at  once  pleasant  and 
painful. 

I  knew  that  I  had  imbibed  the  love  of  my  life  ;  that  hence- 
forward in  it  all  my  hopes  would  center,  and  from  it  would 
spring  my  highest  motives.  I  had  just  reached  manhood, 
and  I  was  not  ignorant  of  the  truth,  that  pure  love  like  this 
is  the  best  guide  to  our  too  erring  natures ;  the  best  rein 
to  curb  their  wild  wanderings.  I  was  indebted  for  this 
knowledge  to  him  who  had  taught  me  my  earliest  lessons ; 
and  as  his  experience  had  already  more  than  once  stood  me 
in  stead,  I  believed  him  in  this.  I  have  since  proved  the 
teaching  true. 

I  knew  that  I  had  inspired  this  young  creature  with  a 
passion  deep  and  ardent  as  my  own,  perhaps  more  vital ; 
for  my  heart  had  passed  through  other  affections,  while  hers 
had  never  throbbed  with  any  save  the  subdued  solicitudes 
of  a  graceful  childhood.  She  had  never  known  emotion. 
Love  was  her  first  strong  feeling,  her  first  passion.  Would 
it  not,  thus  enthroned,  reign  over  all  other  thoughts  in  her 
heart's  kingdom  ?  She,  too,  so  formed  for  love  ;  so  like  its 
mythic  goddess  ! 

These  reflections  were  pleasant.  But  the  picture  darkened 
as  I  turned  from  looking  back  for  the  last  time,  and  some- 


132  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

thing  whispered  me,  some  demon  it  was,  "  You  may  never 
see  her  more  I  " 

The  suggestion,  even  in  this  hypothetical  form,  was  enough 
to  fill  my  mind  with  dark  forebodings,  and  I  began  to  cast 
my  thoughts  upon  the  future.  I  was  going  upon  no  party 
of  pleasure,  from  which  I  might  return  at  a  fixed  hour. 
Dangers  were  before  me,  the  dangers  of  the  desert ;  and  I 
knew  that  these  were  of  no  ordinary  character.  In  our  plans 
of  the  previous  night,  Seguin  had  not  concealed  the  perils 
of  our  expedition.  These  he  had  detailed  before  exacting 
my  final  promise  to  accompany  him.  Weeks  before,  I  would 
not  have  regarded  them  ;  they  would  only  have  lured  me  on 
to  meet  them  ;  now  my  feelings  were  different,  for  I  believed 
that  in  my  life  there  was  another's.  What,  then,  if  the  de- 
mon had  whispered  truly  ?  I  might  never  see  her  more  ! 
It  was  a  painful  thought ;  and  I  rode  on,  bent  in  the  saddle, 
under  the  influence  of  its  bitterness. 

But  I  was  once  more  upon  the  back  of  my  favorite  Moro, 
who  seemed  to  "  know  his  rider ;  "  and  as  his  elastic  body 
heaved  beneath  me,  my  spirit  answered  his,  and  began  to  re- 
sume its  wonted  buoyancy. 

After  a  while  I  took  up  the  reins,  and  shortening  them  in 
my  hands,  spurred  on  after  my  companions. 

Our  road  lay  up  the  river,  crossing  the  shallow  ford  at 
intervals,  and  winding  through  the  bottom-lands,  that  were 
heavily  timbered.  The  path  was  difficult  on  account  of  the 
thick  underwood  ;  and  although  the  trees  had  once  been 
"  blazed  "  for  a  road,  there  were  no  signs  of  late  travel  upon 
it,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  solitary  horse-tracks.  The 
country  appeared  wild  and  uninhabited.  This  was  evident 
from  the  frequency  with  which  deer  and  antelope  swept 
across  our  path,  or  sprang  out  of  the  underwood  close  to  our 
horses'  heads.  Here  and  there  our  path  trended  away  from 
the  river,  crossing  its  numerous  "  loops."     Several  times  we 


UP  THE   DEL   NORTE. 


133 


passed  large  tracts  where  the  heavy  timber  had  been  felled, 
and  "  clearings  "  had  existed.  But  this  must  have  been  long 
ago ;  for  the  land  that  had  been  furrowed  by  the  plow 
was  now  covered  with  tangled  and  almost  impenetrable 
thickets.      A  few  broken  and  decaying  logs,  or  crumbling 


Mexican  Rancheros. 


walls  of  the  adobe',  were  all  that  remained  to  attest  where 
the  settlers'  "  rancho  "  had  stood. 

We  passed  a  ruined  church,  with  its  old  turrets  dropping 
by  piecemeal.  Piles  of  adobe'  lay  around,  covering  the 
ground  for  acres.  A  thriving  village  had  stood  there. 
Where  was  it  now  ?     Where  were  the  busy  gossips  ?     A  wild- 


134  THE  SCALP-HUNTERS. 

cat  sprang  over  the  brier-laced  walls,  and  made  off  into  the 
forest.  An  owl  flew  sluggishly  up  from  the  crumbling  cupola, 
and  hovered  around  our  heads,  uttering  its  doleful  "  woo- 
hoo-a,"  that  rendered  the  desolation  of  the  scene  more  im- 
pressive. As  we  rode  through  the  ruin  a  dead  stillness  sur- 
rounded us,  broken  only  by  the  hooting  of  the  night-bird, 
and  the  "  cranch-cranch  "  of  our  horses'  feet  upon  the  frag- 
ments of  pottery  that  covered  the  deserted  streets. 

But  where  were  they  who  had  once  made  these  walls  echo 
with  their  voices  ?  Who  had  knelt  under  the  sacred  shadow 
of  that  once  hallowed  pile  ?  They  were  gone ;  but  where  ? 
and  when  ?  and  why  ? 

I  put  these  questions  to  Seguin,  and  was  answered  thus 
briefly — 

"  The  Indians." 

The  savage  it  was,  with  his  red  spear  and  scalping-knife, 
his  bow  and  his  battle-ax,  his  brand  and  his  poisoned 
arrows. 

"  The  Navajoes  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Navajo  and  Apache." 

"  But  do  they  come  no  more  to  this  place  ?  " 

A  feeling  of  anxiety  had  suddenly  entered  my  mind.  I 
thought  of  our  proximity  to  the  mansion  we  had  left.  I 
thought  of  its  unguarded  walls.  I  waited  with  some  impa- 
tience for  an  answer. 

"  No  more,"  was  the  brief  reply. 

"  And  why  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  This  is  our  territory,"  he  answered,  significantly.  "  You 
are  now,  monsieur,  in  a  country  where  live  strange  fellows ; 
you  shall  see.  Woe  to  the  Apache  or  Navajo  who  may 
stray  into  these  woods  !  " 

As  we  rode  forward  the  country  became  more  open,  and 
we  caught  a  glimpse  of  high  bluffs  trending  north  and  south 
on  both  sides  of  the  river.     These  bluffs  converged  till  the 


UP  THE   DEL   NORTE.  135 

river  channel  appeared  to  be  completely  barred  up  by  a 
mountain.  This  was  only  an  appearance.  On  riding 
farther,  we  found  ourselves  entering  one  of  those  fearful 
gaps,  "  canons  "  as  they  are  called,  so  often  met  with  in  the 
table-lands  of  tropical  America. 

Through  this  the  river  foamed  between  two  vast  cliffs  a 
thousand  feet  in  height,  whose  profiles,  as  you  approached 
them,  suggested  the  idea  of  angry  giants,  separated  by  some 
almighty  hand,  and  thus  left  frowning  at  each  other.  It  was 
with  a  feeling  of  awe  that  one  looked  up  the  face  of  these 
stupendous  cliffs,  and  I  felt  a  shuddering  sensation  as  I 
neared  the  mighty  gate  between  them. 

"  Do  you  see  that  point  ?  "  asked  Seguin,  indicating  a  rock 
that  jutted  out  from  the  highest  ledge  of  the  chasm.  I  sig- 
nified in  the  affirmative,  for  the  question  was  addressed  to 
myself. 

"  That  is  the  leap  you  were  so  desirous  of  taking.  We 
found  you  dangling  against  yonder  rock." 

"  Good  Heavens  !  "  I  ejaculated,  as  my  eyes  rested  upon 
the  dizzy  eminence.  My  brain  grew  giddy  as  I  sat  in  my 
saddle  gazing  upward,  and  I  was  fain  to  ride  onward. 

"  But  for  your  noble  horse,"  continued  my  companion, 
"  the  doctor  here  would  have  been  stopping  about  this  time 
to  hypothecate  upon  your  bones.  Ho,  Moro !  beautiful 
Moro  1  " 

"  Oh,  mein  Gott  1  Ya,  ya  !  "  assented  the  botanist,  look- 
ing up  against  the  precipice  apparently  with  a  feeling  of 
awe,  such  as  I  felt  myself. 

Seguin  had  ridden  alongside  me,  and  was  patting  my 
horse  on  the  neck  with  expressions  of  admiration. 

"  But  why  ? "  I  asked,  the  remembrance  of  our  first  inter- 
view now  occurring  to  me,  "  why  where  you  so  eager  to 
possess  him  ?  " 

"  A  fancy." 


136  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  Can  I  not  understand  it  ?  I  think  you  said  then  that  I 
could  not  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  quite  easily,  monsieur.  I  intended  to  steal 
my  own  daughter,  and  I  wanted,  for  that  purpose,  to  have 
the  aid  of  your  horse." 

"  But  how  ?  " 

"  It  was  before  I  had  heard  the  news  of  this  intended  expe- 
dition of  our  enemy.  As  I  had  no  hopes  of  obtaining  her 
otherwise,  it  was  my  design  to  have  entered  their  country 
alone,  or  with  a  tried  comrade,  and  by  stratagem  to  have 
carried  her  off.  Their  horses  are  swift,  yet  far  inferior  to 
the  Arab,  as  you  may  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing.  With 
such  an  animal  as  that,  I  would  have  been  comparatively 
safe,  unless  hemmed  in  or  surrounded,  and  even  then  I 
might  have  got  off  with  a  few  scratches.  I  intended  to  have 
disguised  myself,  and  entered  the  town  as  one  of  their  own 
warriors.     I  have  long  been  master  of  their  language." 

"  It  would  have  been  a  perilous  enterprise." 

"  True  !  It  was  a  dernier  ressort,  and  only  adopted  because 
all  other  efforts  had  failed  ;  after  years  of  yearning,  deep- 
craving  of  the  heart.  I  might  have  perished.  It  was  a  rash 
thought,  but  I,  at  that  time,  entertained  it  fully." 

"  I  hope  we  shall  succeed  now." 

"  I  have  high  hopes.  It  seems  as  if  some  overruling 
providence  were  now  acting  in  my  favor.  This  absence  of  her 
captors :  and  besides,  my  band  has  been  most  opportunely 
strengthened  by  the  arrival  of  a  number  of  trappers  from 
the  eastern  plains.  The  beaver  skins  have  fallen,  according 
to  their  phraseology,  to  a  '  plew  a  plug,'  and  they  find 
'  redskin '  pays  better.  Ah !  I  hope  this  will  soon  be 
over." 

And  he  sighed  deeply  as  he  uttered  the  last  words. 

We  were  now  at  the  entrance  of  the  gorge,  and  a  shady 
clump  of  cotton-woods  invited  us  to  rest. 


UP  THE   DEL   NORTE. 


137 


"  Let  us  noon  here,"  said  Seguin. 

We  dismounted,  and  ran  our  animals  out  on  their  trail- 
ropes  to  feed.  Then  seating  ourselves  on  the  soft  grass, 
we  drew  forth  the  viands  that  had  been  prepared  for  our 
journey. 


Shells  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


GEOGRAPHY   AND    GEOLOGY. 


E  rested  above  an  hour  in  the  cool 
shade,  while  our  horses  refreshed  them- 
selves on  the  "  grama "  that  grew 
luxuriantly  around.  We  conversed 
about  the  singular  region  in  which  we 
were  traveling :  singular  in  its  geogra- 
phy, its  geology,  its  botany,  and  its  his- 
tory :  singular  in  all  respects. 

I  am  a  traveler,  as  I  might  say,  by 
profession.  I  felt  an  interest  in  learning  something  of  the 
wild  countries  that  stretched  for  hundreds  of  miles  around 
us  ;  and  I  knew  there  was  no  man  living  so  capable  of  being 
my  informant  as  he  with  whom  I  then  conversed. 

My  journey  down  the  river  had  made  me  but  little  ac- 
quainted with  its  features.  At  that  time,  as  I  have  already 
related,  there  was  fever  upon  me  ;  and  my  memory  of  objects 
was  as  though  I  had  encountered  them  in  some  distorted 
dream. 

My  brain  was  now  clear ;  and  the  scenes  through  which 

138 


GEOGRAPHY  AND  GEOLOGY.       I 39 

we  were  passing,  here  soft  and  southlike,  there  wild,  barren, 
and  picturesque,  forcibly  impressed  my  imagination. 

The  knowledge,  too,  that  parts  of  this  region  had  once 
been  inhabited  by  the  followers  of  Cortez,  as  many  a  ruin 
testified  ;  that  it  had  been  surrendered  back  to  its  ancient 
and  savage  lords,  and  the  inference  that  this  surrender  had 
been  brought  about  by  the  enactment  of  many  a  tragic  scene, 
induced  a  train  of  romantic  thought,  which  yearned  for  grati- 
fication in  an  acquaintance  with  the  realities  that  gave  rise  to  it. 

Seguin  was  communicative.  His  spirits  were  high.  His 
hopes  were  buoyant.  The  prospect  of  again  embracing  his 
long-lost  child  imbued  him,  as  it  were,  with  new  life.  He 
had  not,  he  said,  felt  so  happy  for  many  years. 

"  It  is  true,"  said  he,  in  answer  to  a  question  I  had  put, 
"  there  is  little  known  of  this  whole  region,  beyond  the  boun- 
daries of  the  Mexican  settlements.  They  who  once  had  the 
opportunity  of  recording  its  geographical  features  have  left 
the  task  undone.  They  were  too  busy  in  the  search  for  gold  ; 
and  their  weak  descendants,  as  you  see,  are  too  busy  in  rob- 
bing one  another  to  care  for  aught  else.  They  know  nothing 
of  the  country  beyond  their  own  borders  ;  and  these  are  every 
day  contracting  upon  them.  All  they  know  of  it  is  the  fact 
that  thence  come  their  enemies,  whom  they  dread,  as  children 
do  ghosts  or  wolves." 

"  We  are  now,"  continued  Seguin,  "  near  the  center  of  the 
continent,  in  the  very  heart  of  the  American  Sahara." 

"  But,"  said  I,  interrupting  him,  "  we  cannot  be  more  than 
a  day's  ride  south  of  New  Mexico.  That  is  not  a  desert :  it 
is  a  cultivated  country." 

"  New  Mexico  is  an  oasis,  nothing  more.  The  desert  is 
around  it  for  hundreds  of  miles  ;  nay,  in  some  directions 
you  may  travel  a  thousand  miles  from  the  Del  Norte  with- 
out seeing  one  fertile  spot.  New  Mexico  is  an  oasis,  which 
Owes  its  existence  to  the  irrigating  waters  of  the  Del  Norte. 


14-0  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

It  is  the  only  settlement  of  white  men  from  the  frontiers  of 
the  Mississippi  to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific  in  California. 
You    approached  it  by  a  desert,  did  you  not  ?  " 

"  Yes.  As  we  ascended  from  the  Mississippi  towards  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  the  country  became  gradually  more  sterile. 
For  the  last  three  hundred  miles  or  so,  we  could  scarcely 
find  grass  or  water  for  the  sustenance  of  our  animals.  But 
is  it  thus  north  and  south  of  the  route  we  traveled  ?  " 

"  North  and  south  for  more  than  a  thousand  miles,  from 
the  plains  of  Texas  to  the  lakes  of  Canada,  along  the  whole 
base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  half-way  to  the  settlements 
on  the  Mississippi,  it  is  a  treeless,  herbless  land." 

"  To  the  west  of  the  mountains  ?  " 

"  Eifteen  hundred  miles  of  desert :  that  is  its  length,  by 
at  least  half  as  many  miles  of  breadth.  The  country  to  the 
west  is  of  a  different  character.  It  is  more  broken  in  its 
outlines,  more  mountainous,  and  if  possible  more  sterile  in 
its  aspect.  The  volcanic  fires  have  been  more  active  there ; 
and  though  that  may  have  been  thousands  of  years  ago,  the 
igneous  rocks  in  many  places  look  as  if  freshly  upheaved. 
No  vegetation,  no  climatic  action  has  sensibly  changed  the 
hues  of  the  lava  and  scoriae  that  in  some  places  cover  the 
plains  for  miles.  I  say  no  climatic  action,  for  there  is  but 
little  of  that  in  this  central  region." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"  What  I  mean  is,  that  there  is  but  little  atmospheric 
change.  It  is  but  one  uniform  drought ;  it  is  seldom  tem- 
pestuous or  rainy.  I  know  some  districts  where  a  drop  of 
rain  has  not  fallen  for  years." 

"  And  can  you  account  for  that  phenomenon  ?  " 

"  I  have  my  theory.  It  may  not  satisfy  the  learned  me- 
teorologist, but  I  will  offer  it  to  you." 

I  listened  with  attention,  for  I  knew  that  my  companion  was 
a  man  of  science,  as  of  experience  and  observation,  and  sub- 


GEOGRAPHY  AND  GEOLOGY.        141 

jects  of  the  character  of  those  about  which  we  conversed  had 
always  possessed  great  interest  for  me.     He  continued — 

"  There  can  be  no  rain  without  vapor  in  the  air.  There 
can  be  no  vapor  in  the  air  without  water  on  the  earth  below 
to  produce  it.     Here  there  is  no  great  body  of  water. 

"  Nor  can  there  be.  The  whole  region  of  the  desert  is 
upheaved :  an  elevated  table-land.  We  are  now  nearly  six 
thousand  feet  above  sea  level.  Hence  its  springs  are  few ; 
and  by  hydraulic  law  must  be  fed  by  its  own  waters,  or  those 
of  some  region  still  more  elevated,  which  does  not  exist  on 
the  continent. 

"  Could  I  create  vast  seas  in  this  region,  walled  in  by  the 
lofty  mountains  that  traverse  it,  and  such  seas  existed  coeval 
with  its  formation  ;  could  I  create  those  seas  without  giving 
them  an  outlet,  not  even  allowing  the  smallest  rill  to  drain 
them,  in  process  of  time  they  would  empty  themselves  into 
the  ocean,  and  leave  everything  as  it  now  is,  a  desert." 

"  But  how  ?  by  evaporation  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,  the  absence  of  evaporation  would  be 
the  cause  of  their  drainage.     I  believe  it  has  been  so  already." 

"  I  cannot  understand  that." 

"  It  is  simply  thus  :  this  region  possesses,  as  we  have  said, 
great  elevation  ;  consequently  a  cool  atmosphere,  and  a  much 
less  evaporating  power  than  that  which  draws  up  the  water 
of  the  ocean.  Now,  there  would  be  an  interchange  of  vapor 
between  the  ocean  and  these  elevated  seas,  by  means  of 
winds  and  currents  ;  for  it  is  only  by  that  means  that  any 
water  can  reach  this  interior  plateau.  That  interchange 
would  result  in  favor  of  the  inland  seas,  by  reason  of  their 
less  evaporation,  as  well  as  from  other  causes.  We  have 
not  time,  or  I  could  demonstrate  such  a  result.  I  beg  you 
will  admit  it,  then,  and  reason  it  out  at  your  leisure." 

"  I  perceive  the  truth ;  I  perceive  it  at  once." 

"  What  follows,  then  ?     These  seas   would  gradually  fill 


142  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

up  to  overflowing.  The  first  little  rivulet  that  trickled  forth 
from  their  lipping  fulness  would  be  the  signal  of  their  de- 
struction. It  would  cut  its  channel  over  the  ridge  of  the  lofty- 
mountain,  tiny  at  first,  but  deepening  and  widening  with  each 
successive  shower,  until,  after  many  years — ages,  centuries, 
cycles  perhaps — a  great  gap  such  as  this  "  (here  Seguin 
pointed  to  the  canon,)  "  and  the  dry  plain  behind  it,  would 
alone  exist  to  puzzle  the  geologist." 

"  And  you  think  that  the  plains  lying  among  the  Andes 
and  the  Rocky  Mountains  are  the  dry  beds  of  seas  ?  " 

"  I  doubt  it  not :  seas  formed  after  the  unheaval  of  the 
ridges  that  barred  them  in,  formed  by  rains  from  the  ocean  ; 
at  first  shallow,  then  deepening,  until  they  had  risen  to  the 
level  of  their  mountain  barriers  ;  and,  as  I  have  described, 
cut  their  way  back  again  to  the  ocean." 

"  But  does  not  one  of  these  seas  still  exist  ?  " 

"  The  Great  Salt  Lake  ?  It  does.  It  lies  northwest  of 
us.  Not  only  one,  but  a  system  of  lakes,  springs,  and  rivers, 
both  salt  and  fresh ;  and  these  have  no  outlet  to  the  ocean. 
They  are  barred  in  by  highlands  and  mountains,  of  them- 
selves forming  a  complete  geographical  system." 

"  Does  not  that  destroy  your  theory  ? " 

"  No.  The  basin  in  which  this  phenomenon  exists  is  on 
a  lower  level  than  most  of  the  desert  plateaux.  Its  evaporat- 
ing power  is  equal  to  the  influx  of  its  own  rivers,  and  con- 
sequently neutralizes  their  effect :  that  is  to  say,  in  its  ex- 
change of  vapor  with  the  ocean,  it  gives  as  much  as  it  re- 
ceives. This  arises,  not  so  much  from  its  low  elevation  as 
from  the  peculiar  dip  of  the  mountains  that  guide  the  waters 
into  its  bosom.  Place  it  in  a  colder  position,  cceter  is  paribus, 
and  in  time  it  would  cut  the  canal  for  its  own  drainage.  So 
with  the  Caspian  Sea,  the  Aral,  and  the  Dead  Sea.  No,  my 
friend,  the  existence  of  the  Salt  Lake  supports  my  theory. 
Around  its  shores  lies  a  fertile  country ;  fertile  from  the  quick 


GEOGRAPHY  AND  GEOLOGY.       143 

returns  of  its  own  waters  moistening  it  with  rain.  It  exists 
only  to  a  limited  extent,  and  cannot  influence  the  whole 
region  of  the  desert,  which  lies  parched  and  sterile,  on  ac- 
count of  its  great  distance  from  the  ocean." 

"  But  does  not  the  vapor  rising  from  the  ocean  float  over 
the  desert  ? " 

"  It  does.,  as  I  have  said,  to  some  extent,  else  there  would 
be  no  rain  here.  Sometimes  by  extraordinary  causes,  such 
as  high  winds,  it  is  carried  into  the  heart  of  the  continent  in 
large  masses.  Then  we  have  storms,  and  fearful  ones  too. 
But,  generally,  it  is  only  the  skirt  of  a  cloud,  so  to  speak, 
that  reaches  thus  far  ;  and  that,  combined  with  the  proper 
evaporation  of  the  region  itself,  that  is,  from  its  own  springs 
and  rivers,  yields  all  the  rain  that  falls  upon  it.  Great  bodies 
of  vapor,  rising  from  the  Pacific  and  drifting  eastward,  first 
impinge  upon  the  coast  range,  and  there  deposit  their 
waters  ;  or  perhaps  they  are  more  highly  heated,  and  soaring 
above  the  tops  of  these  mountains,  travel  farther.  They  will 
be  intercepted  a  hundred  miles  farther  on  by  the  loftier 
ridges  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  carried  back,  as  it  were,  cap- 
tive, to  the  ocean  by  the  streams  of  the  Sacramento  and  San 
Joaquim.  It  is  only  the  skirt  of  these  clouds,  as  I  have 
termed  it,  that,  soaring  still  higher,  and  escaping  the  attrac- 
tive influence  of  the  Nevada,  floats  on,  and  falls  into  the 
desert  region.  What  then  ?  No  sooner  has  it  fallen  than 
it  hurries  back  to  the  sea  by  the  Gila  and  Colorado,  to  rise 
again  and  fertilize  the  slopes  of  the  Nevada  ;  while  the  frag- 
ment of  some  other  cloud  drifts  its  scanty  supply  over  the 
arid  uplands  of  the  interior,  to  be  spent  in  rain  or  snow  upon 
the  peaks  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Hence  the  source  of  the 
rivers  running  east  and  west,  and  hence  the  oases,  such  as 
the  '  parks  '  that  lie  among  these  mountains.  Hence  the 
fertile  valleys  upon  the  Del  Norte',  and  other  streams  that 
thinly  meander  through  this  central  land. 


144  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  Vapor-clouds  from  the  Atlantic  undergo  a  similar  deten- 
tion in  crossing  the  Alleghany  range  ;  or,  cooling,  after  Wav- 
ing circled  a  great  distance  round  the  globe,  descend  intc  the 
valleys  of  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi.  From  all  sides  of  this 
great  continent,  as  you  approach  its  center,  fertility  declines, 
and  only  from  the  want  of  water.  The  soil  in  many  places, 
where  there  is  scarcely  a  blade  of  grass  to  be  seen,  possesses 
all  the  elements  of  vegetation.  So  the  doctor  will  tell  you , 
he  has  analyzed  it." 

"  Ya,  ya  !  dat  ish  true,"  quietly  affirmed  the  doctor. 

"  There  are  many  oases,"  continued  Seguin  ;  "  and 
where  water  can  be  used  to  irrigate  the  soil,  luxuriant  vege- 
tation is  the  consequence.  You  have  observed  this,  no  doubt, 
in  traveling  down  the  river  ;  and  such  was  the  case  in  the 
old  Spanish  settlements  on  the  Gila." 

"  But  why  were  these  abandoned  ?  "  I  inquired,  never 
having  heard  any  reason  assigned  for  the  desertion  of  these 
once  flourishing  colonies. 

"  Why  !  "  echoed  Seguin,  with  a  peculiar  energy  ;  "  why  ! 
Unless  some  other  race  than  the  Iberian  take  possession  of 
these  lands,  the  Apache,  the  Navajo,  and  the  Cumanche, 
the  conquered  of  Cortez  and  his  conquerors,  will  yet  drive 
the  descendants  of  those  very  conquerors  from  the  soil  of 
Mexico.  Look  at  Sonora  and  Chihuahua,  half  depopulated  ! 
Look  at  New  Mexico ;  its  citizens  living  by  sufferance  ;  liv- 
ing, as  it  were,  to  till  the  land  and  feed  the  flocks  for  the  sup- 
port of  their  own  enemies,  who  levy  their  blackmail  by  the 
year  !     But,  come ;   the  sun  tells  us  we  must  on.     Come  ! 

"  Mount !  we  can  go  through,"  continued  he.  "  There 
has  been  no  rain  lately,  and  the  water  is  low,  otherwise  we 
should  have  fifteen  miles  of  a  ride  over  the  mountain  yonder. 
Keep  close  to  the  rocks  !     Follow  me  !  " 

And  with  this  admonition  he  entered  the  canon,  followed 
by  myself,  Gode",  and  the  doctor. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


T  was  still  early  in  the 
evening  when  we 
reached  the  camp — 
the  camp  of  the  scalp- 
hunters.  Our  arrival  was  scarcely 
noticed.  A  single  glance  at  us, 
as  we  rode  in  amongst  the  men, 
was  all  the  recognition  we  re- 
ceived. No  one  rose  from  his 
seat  or  ceased  his  occupation. 
We  were  left  to    unsaddle   our 


horses  and  dispose  of  them  as  best  we  might. 

I  was  wearied  with  the  ride,  having  been  so  long  unused 
to  the  saddle.  I  threw  my  blanket  on  the  ground,  and  sat 
down,  resting  my  back  against  the  stump  of  a  tree.  I  could 
have  slept,  but  the  strangeness  of  everything  around  me  ex- 
cited my  imagination,  and,  with  feelings  of  curiosity,  I  looked 
and  listened. 

I  should  call  the  pencil  to  my  aid  to  give  you  an  idea   of 

the  scene,  and  that  would  but  faintly  illustrate  it.     A  wilder 

and    more  picturesque  coup-d'oeil  never    impressed  human 

vision.     It  reminded  me  of  pictures  I  had  seen  representing 

10  145 


I46  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

the  bivouacs  of  brigands,  under  the  dark  pines  of  the 
Abruzzi. 

I  paint  from  a  recollection  that  looks  back  over  many 
years  of  adventurous  life.  I  can  give  only  the  more  salient 
points  of  the  picture.  The  petite  detail  is  forgotten,  although 
at  that  time  the  minutest  objects  were  things  new  and  strange 
to  my  eye,  and  each  of  them  for  a  while  fixed  my  attention. 
I  afterwards  grew  familiar  with  them  ;  and  hence  they  are 
now  in  my  memory,  as  a  multitude  of  other  things,  indistinct 
from  their  very  distinctness. 

The  camp  was  in  a  bend  of  the  Del  Norte,  in  a  glade  sur- 
rounded by  tall  cotton-woods,  whose  smooth  trunks  rose  ver- 
tically out  of  a  thick  underwood  of  palmettoes  and  Spanish 
bayonet.  A  few  tattered  tents  stood  in  the  open  ground ; 
and  there  were  skin  lodges  after  the  Indian  fashion.  But 
most  of  the  hunters  had  made  their  shelter  with  a  buffalo-robe 
stretched  upon  four  upright  poles.  There  were  "  lairs " 
among  the  underwood,  constructed  of  branches,  and  thatched 
with  the  palmated  leaves  of  the  yuca,  or  with  reeds  brought 
from  the  adjacent  river. 

There  were  paths  leading  out  in  different  directions,  marked 
by  openings  in  the  foliage.  Through  one  of  these  a  green 
meadow  was  visible.  Mules  and  mustangs,  picketed  on  long 
trail-ropes,  were  clustered  over  it. 

Through  the  camp  were  seen  the  saddles,  bridles,  and 
packs,  resting  upon  stumps  or  hanging  from  the  branches. 
Guns  leaned  against  the  trees,  and  rusted  sabers  hung  sus- 
pended over  the  tents  and  lodges.  Articles  of  camp  furni- 
ture, such  as  pans,  kettles,  and  axes,  littered  the  ground  in 
every  direction. 

Log  fires  were  burning.  Around  them  sat  clusters  of  men. 
They  were  not  seeking  warmth,  for  it  was  not  cold.  They 
were  roasting  ribs  of  venison,  or  smoking  odd-fashioned  pipes. 
Some  were  scouring  their  arms  and  accouterments. 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS.  147 

The  accents  of  many  languages  fell  upon  my  ear.  I  heard 
snatches  of  French,  Spanish,  English,  and  Indian.  The  ex- 
clamations were  in  character  with  the  appearance  of  those 
who  uttered  them.  "  Hilloa,  Dick  !  hang  it,  old  hoss,  what 
are  ye  'bout  ?  "  "  Parbleu  !  enfant  de  garce  !  "  "  Car- 
rambo  I  "  "  Pardieu,  monsieur  !  "  "  By  the  'tarnal  airth- 
quake  !  "  "  Vaya  !  hombre,  vaya  1  "  "  Carajo  !  "  "  By 
Gosh  !  "     "  Santissima  Maria  1  "     "  Pe  gar  1  " 

It  seemed  as  if  the  different  nations  had  sent  represent- 
atives to  contest  the  supremacy  of  their  shibboleths. 

I  was  struck  with  three  groups.  A  particular  language 
prevailed  in  each  ;  and  there  was  a  homogeneousness  about 
the  costumes  of  the  men  composing  each.  That  nearest  me 
conversed  in  the  Spanish  language.  They  were  Mexicans. 
I  will  describe  the  dress  of  one,  as  I  remember  it. 

Cahoneros  of  green  velvet.  These  are  cut  after  the  fashion 
of  sailor-trousers,  short  waist,  tight  round  the  hips,  and  wide 
at  the  bottoms,  where  they  are  strengthened  by  black  leather 
stamped  and  stitched  ornamentally.  The  outer  seams  are 
split  from  hip  to  thigh,  slashed  with  braid,  and  set  with  rows 
of  silver  castle-tops.  These  seams  are  open,  for  the  evening 
is  warm,  and  underneath  appear  the  cahoncillos  of  white 
muslin,  hanging  in  white  folds  around  the  ankles.  The  boot 
is  of  calf-skin,  tanned,  but  not  blackened.  It  is  reddish, 
rounded  at  the  toe,  and  carries  a  spur  at  least  a  pound  in 
weight,  with  a  rowel  three  inches  in  diameter !  The  spur  is 
curiously  fashioned,  and  fastened  to  the  boot  by  straps  of 
stamped  leather.  Little  bells,  campanulas,  hang  from  the 
teeth  of  the  rowels,  and  tinkle  at  the  slightest  motion  of  the 
foot !  Look  upward.  The  calzoneros  are  not  braced,  but 
fastened  at  the  waist  by  a  silken  sash  or  scarf.  It  is  scarlet. 
It  is  passed  several  times  round  the  body,  and  made  fast 
behind,  where  the  fringed  ends  hang  gracefully  over  the  left 
hip.     There  is  no  vest.     A  jacket  of  dark  cloth  embroidered 


I48  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

and  tightly  fitting,  short  behind,  a  la  Grecqne,  leaving  the  shirt 
to  puff  out  over  the  scarf.  The  shirt  itself,  with  its  broad 
collar  and  flowered  front,  exhibits  the  triumphant  skill  of  some 
dark-eyed  poblana.  Overall  this  is  the  broad-brimmed  shad- 
owy sombrero  ;  a  heavy  hat  of  black  glaze,  with  its  thick 
band  of  silver  bullion.  There  are  tags  of  the  same  metal 
stuck  in  the  sides,  giving  it  an  appearance  altogether  unique. 
Over  one  shoulder  is  hanging,  half-folded,  the  picturesque 
serape.  A  belt  and  pouch,  an  escopette  upon  which  the  hand 
is  resting,  a  waist-belt  with  a  pair  of  small  pistols  stuck 
under  it,  a  long  Spanish  knife  suspended  obliquely  across 
the  left  hip,  complete  the  tout  ensemble  of  him  whom  I  have 
chosen  to  describe. 

It  may  answer  as  a  characteristic  of  the  dress  of  many 
of  his  companions,  those  of  the  group  that  was  nearest  me. 
There  was  variety  in  their  habiliments,  yet  the  national  cos- 
tume of  Mexico  was  traceable  in  all.  Some  wore  leathern 
calzoneros,  with  a  spencer  or  jerkin  of  the  same  material, 
close  both  in  front  and  behind.  Some  carried,  instead  of  the 
pictured  serape,  the  blanket  of  the  Navajoes,  with  its  broad 
black  stripes.  Suspended  from  the  shoulders  of  others  hung 
the  beautiful  and  graceful  manga.  Some  were  mocassined ; 
while  a  few  of  the  inferior  men  wore  the  simple  guarche,  the 
sandal  of  the  Aztecs. 

The  countenances  of  these  men  were  swarth  and  savage 
looking,  their  hair  long,  straight,  and  black  as  the  wing  of  a 
crow  ;  while  both  beard  and  mustache  grew  wildly  over  their 
faces.  Fierce  dark  eyes  gleamed  under  the  broad  brims  of 
their  hats.  Few  of  them  were  men  of  high  stature  ;  yet  there 
was  a  litheness  in  their  bodies  that  showed  them  to  be 
capable  of  great  activity.  Their  frames  were  well  knit,  and 
inured  to  fatigues  and  hardships.  They  were  all,  or  nearly 
all,  natives  of  the  Mexican  border,  frontier-men,  who  had 
often  closed  in  deadly  fight  with  the  Indian  foe.     They  were 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS.  149 

ciboleros,  vaqueros,  rancheros,  monteros ;  men  who  in  their  fre- 
quent association  with  the  mountain  men,  the  Gallic  and 
Saxon  hunters  from  the  eastern  plains,  had  acquired  a  degree 
of  daring  which  by  no  means  belongs  to  their  own  race. 
They  were  the  chivalry  of  the  Mexican  frontier. 

They  smoked  cigaritas,  rolling  them  between  their  fingers 
in  husks  of  maize.  They  played  monte'  on  their  spread  blank- 
ets, staking  their  tobacco.  They  cursed,  and  cried  "  Carajo  !  " 
when  they  lost,  and  thanks  to  the  "  Santissima  Virgin"  when 
the  cards  were  pulled  out  in  their  favor  ! 

Their  language  was  a  Spanish  patois ;  their  voices  were 
sharp  and  disagreeable. 

At  a  short  distance  from  these  was  the  second  group  that 
attracted  my  attention.  The  individuals  composing  this  were 
altogether  different  from  the  former.  They  were  different 
in  every  essential  point :  in  voice,  dress,  language,  and 
physiognomy.  Theirs  was  the  Anglo-American  face,  at  a 
glance.  These  were  the  trappers,  the  prairie  hunters,  the 
mountain  men. 

Let  us  again  choose  a  type  that  may  answer  for  a  descrip- 
tion of  all. 

He  stands  leaning  on  his  long  straight  rifle,  looking  into 
the  fire.  He  is  six  feet  in  his  mocassins,  and  of  a  build  that 
suggests  the  idea  of  strength  and  Saxon  ancestry.  His  arms 
are  like  young  oaks,  and  his  hand,  grasping  the  muzzle  of 
his  gun,  is  large,  fleshless,  and  muscular.  His  cheek  is 
broad  and  firm.  It  is  partially  covered  by  a  bushy  whisker 
that  meets  over  the  chin  and  fringes  all  around  the  lips.  It 
is  neither  fair  nor  dark,  but  of  a  dull-brown  color,  lighter 
around  the  mouth,  where  it  has  been  bleached  by  the  sun, 
"  ambeer,"  and  water.  The  eye  is  gray,  or  bluish  gray,  small, 
and  slightly  crowed  at  the  corner.  It  is  well  set,  and  rarely 
wanders.  It  seems  to  look  into  you,  rather  than  at  you. 
The  hair  is  brown,  and  of  a  medium  length  (cut,  no  doubt, 


1 50  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

on  his  last  visit  to  the  trading  post,  or  the  settlements)  ;  and 
the  complexion,  although  dark  as  that  of  a  mulatto,  is  only 
so  from  tan.  It  was  once  fair  :  a  blonde.  The  countenance 
is  not  unprepossessing.  It  might  be  styled  handsome.  Its 
whole  expression  is  bold,  but  good-humored  and  generous. 

The  dress  of  the  individual  described  is  of  home  manu- 
facture ;  that  is,  of  his  home,  the  prairie  and  the  wild  moun- 
tain park,  where  the  material  has  been  bought  by  a  bullet 
from  his  rifle.  It  is  the  work  of  his  own  hands,  unless  in- 
deed he  may  be  one  who,  in  his  moments  of  lassitude,  has 
shared  his  cabin  with  some  Indian  damsel,  Sioux,  Crow,  or 
Cheyenne. 

It  consists  of  a  hunting-shirt  of  dressed  deerskin,  smoked 
to  the  softness  of  a  glove  ;  leggings,  reaching  to  the  waist, 
and  mocassins  of  the  same  material ;  the  latter  soled  with  the 
parfleche  of  the  buffalo.  The  shirt  is  belted  at  the  waist,  but 
open  at  the  breast  and  throat,  where  it  falls  back  into  a 
graceful  cape  just  covering  the  shoulders.  Underneath  is 
seen  the  under-shirt,  of  finer  material,  the  dressed  skin  of  the 
antelope,  or  the  fawn  of  the  fallow-deer.  On  his  head  is  a 
racoon  cap,  with  the  face  of  the  animal  looking  to  the  front, 
while  the  barred  tail  hangs  like  a  plume  drooping  down  to 
his  left  shoulder. 

His  accouterments  are,  a  bullet-pouch  made  from  the  un- 
dressed skin  of  the  mountain  cat,  and  a  huge  crescent-shaped 
horn,  upon  which  he  has  carved  many  a  strange  souvenir. 
His  arms  consist  of  a  long  knife,  a  bowie,  and  a  heavy 
pistol,  carefully  secured  by  a  holster  to  the  leathern  belt 
around  his  waist.  Add  to  this  a  rifle  nearly  five  feet  long, 
taking  ninety  to  the  pound,  and  so  straight  that  the  line  of 
the  barrel  scarcely  deflects  from  that  of  the  butt. 

But  little  attention  has  been  paid  to  ornament  in  either  his 
dress,  arms,  or  equipments  ;  and  yet  there  is  a  gracefulness 
in  the  hang  of  his  tunic-like  shirt ;  a  stylishness  about  the 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


151 


fringing  of  the  cape  and  leggings  ;  and  a  jauntiness  in  the  set 
of  that  coon-skin  cap  that  shows  the  wearer  to  be  not  alto- 
gether unmindful  of  his  personal  appearance.  A  small  pouch 
or  case,  neatly  embroidered  with  stained  porcupine  quills, 
hangs  upon  his  breast. 

At  intervals  he  contemplates  this  with  a  pleased  and  com- 
placent look.     It  is  his  pipe-holder :  a  love-token  from  some 


Young  Grizzly  Bears  at  Play. 


dark-eyed,  dark-haired  damsel,  no  doubt,  like  himself  a 
denizen  of  the  wild  wilderness.  Such  is  the  tout  ensemble  of 
a  mountain  trapper. 

There  were  many  around  him  whom  I  have  described 
almost  similarly  attired  and  equipped.  Some  wore  slouch 
hats  of  grayish  felt,  and  some  catskin  caps.  Some  had 
hunting-shirts  bleached  to  a  brighter  hue,  and  broidered  with 
gayer  colors.  Others  looked  more  tattered  and  patched,  and 
smoky  ;  yet  in  the  costume  of  all  there  was  enough  of  charac- 


1 52  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

ter  to  enable  you  to  class  them.  There  was  no  possibility  of 
mistaking  the  regular  "  mountain  man.'1'' 

The  third  group  that  attracted  my  attention  was  at  a 
greater  distance  from  the  spot  I  occupied.  I  was  filled  with 
curiosity,  not  to  say  astonishment,  on  perceiving  that  they 
were  Indians. 

"  Can  they  be  prisoners  ?  "  thought  I.  "  No  ;  they  are 
not  bound.  There  are  no  signs  of  captivity  either  in  their 
looks  or  gestures,  and  yet  they  are  Indians.  Can  they  be- 
long to  the  band,  fighting  against ?  " 

As  I  sat  conjecturing,  a  hunter  passed  near  me. 

"  Who  are  these  Indians  ?  "  I  asked,  indicating  the  group. 

"  Delawares  ;  some  Shawnees." 

These  then,  were  the  celebrated  Delawares  :  descendants 
of  that  great  tribe  who,  on  the  Atlantic  shores,  first  gave 
battle  to  the  pale-faced  invader.  Theirs  has  been  a  wonder- 
ful history.  War  their  school,  war  their  worship,  war  their 
pastime,  war  their  profession.  They  are  now  but  a  remnant. 
Their  story  will  soon  be  ended. 

I  rose  up,  and  approached  them  with  a  feeling  of  interest. 
Some  of  them  were  sitting  around  the  fire,  smoking  out  of 
curiously-carved  pipes  of  the  red  claystone.  Others  strode 
back  and  forth  with  that  majestic  gait  for  which  the  "  forest  " 
Indian  has  been  so  much  celebrated.  There  was  a  silence 
among  them  that  contrasted  strangely  with  the  jabbering 
kept  up  by  their  Mexican  allies.  An  occasional  question 
put  in  a  deep-toned  sonorous  voice,  a  short  but  emphatic 
reply,  a  guttural  grunt,  a  dignified  nod,  a  gesture  with  the 
hand  ;  and  thus  they  conversed,  as  they  filled  their  pipe- 
bowls  with  the  ki?ii-kin-ik,  and  passed  the  valued  instruments 
from  one  to  another. 

I  stood  gazing  upon  these  stoical  sons  of  the  forest  with 
emotions  stronger  than  curiosity  ;  as  one  contemplates  for 
the  first  time   an  object  of  which  he  has  heard  and  read 


THE    SCALP-HUNTERS.  153 

strange  accounts.  The  history  of  their  wars  and  their  wan- 
derings were  fresh  in  my  memory.  Before  me  were  the 
actors  themselves,  or  types  of  them,  in  all  their  truthful  real- 
ity, and  all  their  wild  picturesqueness.  These  were  the  men 
who,  driven  from  their  homes  by  the  Atlantic  border,  yielded 
only  to  fate :  to  the  destiny  of  their  race.  Crossing  the 
Appalachian  range,  they  had  fought  their  way  from  home  to 
home,  down  the  steep  sides  of  the  Alleghany,  along  the 
wooded  banks  of  the  Ohio,  into  the  heart  of  the  "  Bloody 
Ground."  Still  the  pale-faced  followed  on  their  track,  and 
drove  them  onward,  onvvard  towards  the  setting  sun.  Red 
wars,  Punic  faith,  broken  treaties,  year  after  year  thinned 
their  ranks.  Still  disdaining  to  live  near  their  white  con- 
querors, they  pushed  on,  fighting  their  way  through  tribes  of 
their  own  race  and  color  thrice  their  numbers  !  The  forks 
of  the  Osage  became  their  latest  resting-place.  Here  the 
usurper  promised  to  guarantee  them  a  home,  to  be  theirs  to 
all  time.  The  concession  came  too  late.  War  and  wander- 
ing had  grown  to  be  part  of  their  natures ;  and  with  a 
scornful  pride  they  disdained  the  peaceful  tillage  of  the  soil. 
The  renmant  of  their  tribe  was  collected  on  the  Osage,  but  in 
one  season  it  had  disappeared.  The  braves  and  young  men 
wandered  away,  leaving  only  the  old,  the  women,  and  the 
worthless,  in  their  allotted  home.  Where  have  they  gone  ? 
Where  are  they  now  ?  He  who  would  find  the  Delawares 
must  seek  them  on  the  broad  prairies,  in  the  mountain 
parks,  in  the  haunts  of  the  bear  and  the  beaver,  the  bighorn 
and  the  buffalo.  There  he  may  find  them,  in  scattered  bands 
leagued  with  their  ancient  enemies  the  whites,  or  alone  ; 
trapping,  hunting,  fighting  the  Yuta  or  Rapaho,  the  Crow  or 
Cheyenne,  the  Navajo  and  the  Apache. 

I  stood  gazing  upon  the  group  with  feelings  of  profound 
interest :  upon  their  features  and  their  picturesque  habili- 
ments.    Though  no  two  of  them  were  dressed  exactly  alike, 


154  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

there  was  a  similarity  about  the  dress  of  all.  Most  of  them 
wore  hunting-shirts,  not  made  of  deerskin,  like  those  of  the 
whites,  but  of  calico,  printed  in  bright  patterns.  This  dress, 
handsomely  fashioned  and  fringed,  under  the  accouterments 
of  the  Indian  warrior,  presented  a  striking  appearance.  But 
that  which  chiefly  distinguished  the  costumes  of  both  the 
Delaware  and  Shawano  from  that  of  their  white  allies  was 
the  head-dress.  This  was,  in  fact,  a  turban,  formed  by  bind- 
ing the  head  with  a  scarf  or  kerchief  of  a  brilliant  color :  such 
as  may  be  seen  on  the  dark  Creoles  of  Hayti.  In  the  group 
before  me  no  two  of  these  turbans  were  alike,  yet  they  were 
all  of  a  similar  character.  The  finest  were  those  made  by  the 
chequered  kerchiefs  of  Madras.  Plumes  surmounted  them 
of  colored  feathers  from  the  wing  of  the  war  eagle,  or  the 
blue  plumage  of  the  gruya. 

For  the  rest  of  their  costume  they  wore  deerskin  leggings 
and  mocassins,  nearly  similar  to  those  of  the  trappers.  The 
leggings  of  some  were  ornamented  by  scalp  locks  along  the 
outer  seam,  exhibiting  a  dark  history  of  the  wearer's  prowess. 
I  noticed  that  their  mocassins  were  peculiar,  differing  alto- 
gether from  those  worn  by  the  Indians  of  the  prairies.  They 
were  seamed  up  the  fronts,  without  braiding  or  ornament, 
and  gathered  into  a  double  row  of  plaits. 

The  arms  and  equipments  of  these  warrior  men  were  like 
those  of  the  white  hunters.  They  have  long  since  discarded 
the  bow  ;  and  in  the  management  of  the  rifle  most  of  them 
can  "  draw  a  bead  "  and  hit  "  plumb-center  "  with  any  at 
their  mountain  associates.  In  addition  to  the  firelock  and 
knife,  I  noticed  that  they  still  carried  the  ancient  weapon  of 
their  race,  the  fearful  tomahawk. 

I  have  described  three  characteristic  groups  that  struck 
me  on  glancing  over  the  camp  ground.  There  were  individ- 
uals belonging  to  neither,  and  others  partaking  of  the  charac- 
ter of  one  or  all.     There  were  Frenchmen,   Canadian  voya- 


THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 


155 


geurs,  strays  of  the  Northwest  Company,wearing  white  capotes 
and  chattering,  dancing,  and  singing  their  boat  songs  with 
all  the  esprit  of  their  race.  There  were  pueblos,  Indios 
manzos,  clad  in  their  ungraceful  tilmas,  and  rather  serving 
than  associating  with  those  around  them.  There  were 
mulattoes,  too ;  and  negroes  of  a  jetty  blackness  from  the 
plantations  of  Louisiana,  who  had  exchanged  for  this  free 
roving  life  the  twisted  "  cow-skin  "  of  the  overseer.  There 
were  tattered  uniforms  showing  the  deserters  who  had  wan- 
dered from  some  frontier  post  into  this  remote  region.  There 
were  Kanakas  from  the  Sandwich  Isles,  who  had  crossed  the 
deserts  from  California.  There  were  men  apparently  of 
every  hue  and  clime  and  tongue  here  assembled,  drawn  to- 
gether by  the  accidents  of  life,  by  the  instinct  of  adventure ; 
all  more  or  less  strange  individuals  of  the  strangest  band  it 
has  ever  been  my  lot  to  witness :  the  ba?id  of  the  Scalp- 
Hunters  1 


CHAPTER  XX. 


SHARP-SHOOTING. 


HAD  returned  to  my  blanket,  and  was 
about  to  stretch  myself  upon  it,  when 
the  whoop  of  a  "  gruya  "  drew  my  at- 
tention. Looking  up,  I  saw  one  of 
these  birds  flying  towards  the  camp.  It  was  coming  through 
a  break  in  the  trees  that  opened  from  the  river.  It  flew 
low,  and  tempted  a  shot  with  its  broad  wings  and  slow  lazy 
flight. 

A  report  rang  upon  the  air.  One  of  the  Mexicans  had 
fired  his  escopette ;  but  the  bird  flew  on,  plying  its  wings 
with  more  energy,  as  if  to  bear  itself  out  of  reach. 

There  was  a  laugh  from  the  trappers,  and  a  voice  cried 
out — 

"  Yur  cussed  fool !  D'  yur  think  'ee  kud  hit  a  spread 
blanket  wi'  that  beetle-shaped  blunderbox  ?     Pish  !  " 

I  turned  to  see  who  had  delivered  this  odd  speech.  Two 
men  were  poising  their  rifles,  bringing  them  to  bear  upon 
the  bird.  One  was  the  young  hunter  whom  I  have  described. 
The  other  was  an  Indian  whom  I  had  not  seen  before. 

The  cracks  were  simultaneous ;  and  the  crane,  dropping 


SHARP-SHOOTING.  157 

its  long  neck,  came  whirling  down  among  the  trees,  where 
it  caught  upon  a  high  branch,  and  remained. 

From  their  position,  neither  party  knew  that  the  other 
had  fired.  A  tent  was  between  them,  and  the  two  reports 
had  seemed  as  one.     A  trapper  cried  out — 

"  Well  done,  Garey  !  Kind  Providence  help  the  thing 
that's  afore  old  Killbar's  muzzle  when  you  squints  through 
her  hind-sights." 

The  Indian  just  then  stepped  round  the  tent.  Hearing 
this  side  speech,  and  perceiving  the  smoke  still  oozing  from 
the  muzzle  of  the  young  hunter's  gun,  he  turned  to  the  latter 
with  the  interrogation — 

"  Did  you  fire,  sir  ?  " 

This  was  said  in  well-accentuated  and  most  un-Indian-like 
English,which  would  have  drawn  my  attention  to  the  man  had 
not  his  singularly-imposing  appearance  riveted  me  already. 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  I  inquired  from  one  near  me. 

"  Don't  know  ;  fresh  arriv',"  was  the  short  answer. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  he  is  a  stranger  here  ?  " 

"  Just  so.  He  kumb  in  thar  a  while  agone.  Don't 
b'lieve  anybody  knows  him.  I  guess  the  captain  does  ;  I 
seed  them  shake  hands." 

I  looked  at  the  Indian  with  increasing  interest.  He 
seemed  a  man  of  about  thirty  years  of  age,  and  not  much 
under  seven  feet  in  height.  He  was  proportioned  like  an 
Apollo,  and,  on  this  account,  appeared  smaller  than  he  ac- 
tually was.  His  features  were  of  the  Roman  type  ;  and 
his  fine  forehead,  his  aquiline  nose  and  broad  jawbone, 
gave  him  the  appearance  of  talent  as  well  as  firmness  and 
energy.  He  was  dressed  in  a  hunting-shirt,  leggings  and 
mocassins  ;  but  all  these  differed  from  anything  worn  either 
by  the  hunters  or  their  Indian  allies.  The  shirt  itself  was 
made  out  of  the  dressed  hide  of  the  red  deer,  but  differently 
prepared  from  that  used  by  the  trappers.     It  was  bleached 


158  THE  SCALP-HUNTERS. 

almost  to  the  whiteness  of  a  kid  glove.  The  breast,  unlike 
theirs,  was  close,  and  beautifully  embroidered  with  stained 
porcupine  quills.  The  sleeves  were  similarly  ornamented  ; 
and  the  cape  and  skirts  were  trimmed  with  the  soft,  snow- 
white  fur  of  the  ermine.  A  row  of  entire  skins  of  that  animal 
hung  from  the  skirt  border,  forming  a  fringe  both  graceful 
and  costly.  But  the  most  singular  feature  about  this  man  was 
his  hair.  It  fell  loosely  over  his  shoulders,  and  swept  the 
ground  as  he  walked !  It  could  not  have  been  less  than 
seven  feet  in  length.  It  was  black  glossy,  and  luxuriant, 
and  reminded  me  of  the  tails  of  those  great  Flemish  horses 
I  had  seen  in  the  funeral  carriages  of  London. 

He  wore  upon  his  head  the  war-eagle  bonnet,  with  its  full 
circle  of  plumes  :  the  finest  triumph  of  savage  taste.  This 
magnificent  head-dress  added  to  the  majesty  of  his  appear- 
ance. 

A  white  buffalo  robe  hung  from  his  shoulders,  with  all  the 
graceful  draping  of  a  toga.  Its  silky  fur  corresponded  to 
the  color  of  his  dress,  and  contrasted  strikingly  with  his  own 
dark  tresses. 

There  were  other  ornaments  about  his  person.  His  arms 
and  accouterments  were  shining  with  metallic  brightness,  and 
the  stock  and  butt  of  his  rifle  were  richly  inlaid  with  silver. 

I  have  been  thus  minute  in  my  description,  as  the  first 
appearance  of  this  man  impressed  me  with  a  picture  that  can 
never  be  effaced  from  my  memory.  He  was  the  beau  ideal 
of  a  picturesque  and  romantic  savage ;  and  yet  there  was 
nothing  savage  either  in  his  speech  or  bearing.  On  the 
contrary,  the  interrogation  which  he  had  just  addressed  to 
the  trapper  was  put  in  the  politest  manner.  The  reply  was 
not  so  courteous. 

"  Did  I  fire  ?  Didn't  ye  hear  a  crack  ?  Didn't  ye  see  the 
thing  fall  ?     Look  yonder  1  " 

Garey,  as  he  spoke,  pointed  up  to  the  bird. 


SHARP-SHOOTING.  ?  159 

"  We  must  have  fired  simultaneously." 

As  the  Indian  said  this,  he  appealed  to  his  gun,  which  was 
still  smoking  at  the  muzzle. 

"  Look  hyar,  Injun  !  whether  we  fired  symultainyously, 
or  extraneously,  or  cattawampously,  ain't  the  flappin'  o'  a 
beaver's  tail  to  me  ;  but  I  tuk  sight  on  that  bird  ;  I  hut  that 
bird;  and  'twar  my  bullet  brought  the  thing  down." 

"  I  think  I  must  have  hit  it  too,"  replied  the  Indian,  mod- 
estly. 

"  That's  like,  with  that  ar'  spangled  grimcrack !  "  said 
Garey,  looking  disdainfully  at  the  other's  gun,  and  then 
proudly  at  his  own  brown  weather-beaten  piece,  which  he 
had  just  wiped,  and  was  about  to  reload. 

"  Gimcrack  or  no,"  answered  the  Indian,  "  she  sends  a 
bullet  straighter  and  farther  than  any  piece  I  have  hitherto 
met  with.  I'll  warrant  she  has  sent  hers  through  the  body 
of  the  crane." 

"  Look  hyar,  mister ;  for  I  s'pose  we  must  call  a  gentle- 
man '  mister  '  who  speaks  so  fine  an'  looks  so  fine,  tho'  he 
be's  an  Injun  ;  it's  mighty  easy  to  settle  who  hut  the  bird. 
That  thing's  a  fifty,  or  tharabouts ;  Killbar's  a  ninety. 
'Taint  hard  to  tell  which  has  plugged  the  varmint.  We'll 
soon  see ;  "  and  so  saying,  the  hunter  stepped  off  towards 
the  tree  on  which  hung  the  gruya,  high  up. 

"  How  are  you  to  get  it  down  ?  "  cried  one  of  the  men, 
who  had  stepped  forward  to  witness  the  settlement  of  this 
curious  dispute. 

There  was  no  reply,  for  every  one  saw  that  Garey  was 
poising  his  rifle  for  a  shot.  The  crack  followed ;  and  the 
branch,  shivered  by  his  bullet,  bent  downward  under  the 
weight  of  the  gruya.  But  the  bird,  caught  in  a  double  fork, 
still  stuck  fast  on  the  broken  limb. 

A  murmur  of  approbation  followed  the  shot.  These  were 
men  not  accustomed  to  hurrah  loudly  at  a  trivial  incident. 


:6oT 


THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 


The  Indian  now  approached,  having  reloaded  his  piece. 
Taking  aim,  he  struck  the  branch  at  the  shattered  point, 
cutting  it  clean  from  the  tree  1     The  bird  fell  to  the  ground, 


ss 


0? 


... 


2? 


■    ■  ■■"    :.t:  '■        ,,■■  ■      ;  .';■■■  ■     />     .:■  • .  .  <    -■.   .:■  - 

.      J  -  "ini4-  i  -'    ,  ,  '  ..;-.■:-.■■■  .-         .■■•■  ■   -  -^     'i  ,    <    - 


V 


111     im 


mm 

■BRESg 


Bear  Hunting  in  New  Mexico :  The  Smoke-out. 

amidst  expressions  of  applause  from  the  spectators,  but 
chiefly  from  the  Mexican  and  Indian  hunters.  It  was  at 
once  picked  up  and  examined.  Two  bullets  had  passed 
through  its  body.      Either  would  have  killed  it. 

A  shadow  of  unpleasant  feeling  was  visible  on  the  face  of 


SHARP-SHOOTING.  l6l 

the  young  trapper.  In  the  presence  of  so  many  hunters  of 
every  nation,  to  be  thus  equalled,  beaten  in  the  use  of  his 
favorite  weapon,  and  by  an  "  Injun  "  ;  still  worse,  by  one  of 
"  them  'ar  gingerbread  guns  !  "  The  mountain  men  have  no 
faith  in  an  ornamented  stock  or  a  big  bore.  Spangled  rifles, 
they  say,  are  like  spangled  razors,  made  for  selling  to 
"greenhorns."  It  was  evident,  however,  that  the  strange 
Indian's  rifle  had  been  made  to  shoot  as  well. 

It  required  all  the  strength  of  nerve  which  the  trapper 
possessed  to  conceal  his  chagrin.  Without  saying  a  word, 
he  commenced  wiping  out  his  gun,  with  that  stoical  calmness 
peculiar  to  men  of  his  calling.  I  observed  that  he  proceed- 
ed to  load  with  more  than  usual  care.  It  was  evident  that 
he  would  not  rest  satisfied  with  the  trial  already  made,  but 
would  either  beat  the  "  Injun  "  or  be  himself  "  whipped  into 
shucks."  So  he  declared,  in  a  muttered  speech  to  his  com- 
rades. 

His  piece  was  soon  loaded  ;  and,  swinging  her  to  the 
hunter's  carry,  he  turned  to  the  crowd,  now  collected  from 
all  parts  of  the  camp. 

"  Thar's  one  kind  o'  shootin',''  said  he,  "  that's  jest  as 
easy  as  fall  in'  off  a  log.  Any  man  kin  do  it  as  kin  look 
straight  through  hind-sights.  But  then  thar's  another  kind 
that  ain't  so  easy;  it  needs  narve." 

Here  the  trapper  paused,  and  looked  towards  the  Indian, 
who  was  also  reloading. 

"  Look  hyar,  stranger  !  "  continued  he,  addressing  the 
latter.  "  Have  ye  got  a  cummarade  on  the  ground  as  knows 
yer  shooting  ?  " 

The  Indian,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  answered 
"Yes." 

"  Kin  your  cummarade  depend  on  yer  shot  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I  think  so.     Why  do  you  wish  to  know  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  I'm  a-going  to  show  ye  a  shot  we  sometimes  prac- 
II 


l62  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

tise  at  Bent's  Fort,  jest  to  tickle  the  greenhorns.  'Tain't 
much  o'  a  shot,  nayther ;  but  it  tries  the  narves  a  little,  I 
reckon.     Hoy  !  Rube  I  " 

"  Darn  yur  !  what  doo  'ee  want  ?  " 

This  was  spoken  in  an  energetic  and  angry-like  voice,  that 
turned  all  eyes  to  the  quarter  whence  it  proceeded.  At  the 
first  glance,  there  seemed  to  be  no  one  in  that  direction.  In 
looking  more  carefully  among  the  logs  and  stumps,  an  in- 
dividual was  discovered  seated  by  one  of  the  fires.  It  would 
have  been  difficult  to  tell  that  it  was  a  human  body,  had  not 
the  arms  at  the  moment  been  in  motion.  The  back  was 
turned  toward  the  crowd,  and  the  head  had  disappeared, 
sunk  forward  over  the  fire.  The  object,  from  where  we  were 
standing,  looked  more  like  the  stump  of  a  cotton-wood, 
dressed  in  dirt-colored  buckskin,  than  the  body  of  a  human 
being.  On  getting  nearer,  and  round  to  the  front  of  it,  it 
was  seen  to  be  a  man,  though  a  very  curious  one,  holding  a 
long  rib  of  deer-meat  in  both  hands,  which  he  was  polishing 
with  a  very  poor  set  of  teeth. 

The  whole  appearance  of  this  individual  was  odd  and 
striking.  His  dress,  if  dress  it  could  be  called,  was  simple 
as  it  was  savage.  It  consisted  of  what  might  have  once 
been  a  hunting-shirt,  but  which  now  looked  more  like  a 
leathern  bag  with  the  bottom  ripped  open,  and  sleeves  sewed 
into  the  sides.  It  was  of  a  dirty-brown  color,  wrinkled  at  the 
hollow  of  the  arms,  patched  round  the  armpits,  and  greasy 
all  over ;  it  was  fairly  "  caked  "  with  dirt !  There  was  no 
attempt  at  either  ornament  or  fringe.  There  had  been  a 
cape,  but  this  had  evidently  been  drawn  upon  from  time  to 
time,  for  patches  and  other  uses,  until  scarcely  a  vestige  of 
it  remained.  The  leggings  and  mocassins  were  on  a  par 
with  the  shirt,  and  seemed  to  have  been  manufactured  out 
of  the  same  hide.  They,  too,  were  dirt-brown,  patched, 
wrinkled,  and  greasy.     They  did  not  meet  each  other,  but 


SHARP-SHOOTING.  163 

left  a  piece  of  the  ankle  bare,  and  that  also  was  dirt-brown, 
like  the  buckskin.  There  was  no  under-shirt,  vest,  or  other 
garment  to  be  seen,  with  the  exception  of  a  close-fitting  cap, 
which  had  once  been  catskin,  but  the  hair  was  all  worn  off 
it,  leaving  a  greasy,  leathery-looking  surface  that  corre- 
sponded well  with  the  other  parts  of  the  dress.  Cap,  shirt, 
leggings,  and  mocassins,  looked  as  if  they  had  never  been 
stripped  off  since  the  day  they  were  first  tried  on,  and  that 
might  have  been  many  a  year  ago.  The  shirt  was  open, 
displaying  the  naked  breast  and  throat,  and  these,  as  well  as 
the  face,  hands,  and  ankles,  had  been  tanned  by  the  sun, 
and  smoked  by  the  fire,  to  the  hue  of  rusty  copper.  The 
whole  man,  clothes  and  all,  looked  as  if  he  had  been  smoked 
on  purpose  ! 

His  face  bespoke  a  man  of  sixty.  The  features  were 
sharp  and  somewhat  aquiline ;  and  the  small  eye  was  dark, 
quick,  and  piercing.  His  hair  was  black  and  cut  short. 
His  complexion  had  been  naturally  brunette,  though  there 
was  nothing  of  the  Frenchman  or  Spaniard  in  his  physi- 
ognomy.    He  was  more  likely  of  the  black  Saxon  breed. 

As  I  looked  at  this  man  (for  I  had  walked  towards  him, 
prompted  by  some  instinct  of  curiosity),  I  began  to  fancy 
that  there  was  a  strangeness  about  him,  independent  of  the 
oddness  of  his  attire.  There  seemed  to  be  something- 
peculiar  about  his  head,  something  wanting.  What  was  it  ? 
I  was  not  long  in  conjecture.  When  fairly  in  front  of  him, 
I  saw  what  was  wanting.     It  was  his  ears  ! 

This  discovery  impressed  me  with  a  feeling  akin  to  awe. 
There  is  something  awful  in  a  man  without  his  ears.  It 
suggests  some  horrid  drama,  some  terrible  scene  of  cruel 
vengeance.  It  suggests  the  idea  of  crime  committed  and 
punishment  inflicted. 

These  thoughts  were  wandering  through  my  mind,  when 
all  at  once  I  remembered  a  remark  which  Seguin  had  made 


164  THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 

on  the  previous  night.  This,  then,  thought  I,  is  the  person 
of  whom  he  spoke.     My  mind  was  satisfied. 

After  making  answer  as  above,  the  old  fellow  sat  for  some 
time  with  his  head  between  his  knees  ;  chewing,  mumbling, 
and  growling,  like  a  lean  old  wolf,  angry  at  being  disturbed 
in  his  meal. 

"  Come  hyar,  Rube  !  I  want  ye  a  bit,"  continued  Garey, 
in  a  tone  of  half  entreaty. 

"  And  so  'ee  will  want  me  a  bit ;  this  child  don't  move  a 
peg  till  he  has  cleaned  this  hyur  rib  ;  he  don't,  now  1  " 

"  Dog-gone  it,  man  !  make  haste  then  !  "  and  the  impa- 
tient trapper  dropped  the  butt  of  his  rifle  to  the  ground,  and 
stood  waiting  in  sullen  silence. 

After  chewing,  and  mumbling,  and  growling  a  few  minutes 
longer,  old  Rube,  for  that  was  the  name  by  which  the  leathery 
sinner  was  known,  slowly  erected  his  lean  carcase,  and  came 
walking  up  to  the  crowd. 

"  What  do  'ee  want,  Billee  ?  "  he  inquired,  going  up  to  the 
trapper. 

"  I  want  ye'  to  hold  this,"  answered  Garey,  offering  him  a 
round  white  shell,  about  the  size  of  a  watch  ;  a  species  of 
which  there  were  many  strewed  over  the  ground. 

"  Is't  a  bet,  boyee  ?  " 

"  No,  it  is  not." 

"  Ain't  wastin'  yur  powder,  ar  yur  ?  " 

"  I've  been  beat  shootin',"  replied  the  trapper,  in  an 
undertone,  "by  that  'ar  Injun." 

The  old  man  looked  over  to  where  the  strange  Indian  was 
standing  erect  and  majestic,  in  all  the  pride  of  his  plumage. 
There  was  no  appearance  of  triumph  or  swagger  about  him, 
as  he  stood  leaning  on  his  rifle,  in  an  attitude  at  once  calm 
and  dignified. 

It  was  plain  from  the  way  old  Rube  surveyed  him,  that 
he  had  seen  him  before,  though  not  in  that  camp.     After 


SHARP-SHOOTING.  165 

passing  his  eyes  over  him  from  head  to  foot ;  and  there 
resting  them  a  moment,  a  low  murmur  escaped  his  lips, 
which  ended  abruptly  in  the  word  "  Coco." 

"  A  Coco  do  ye  think  ?  "  inquired  the  other  with  an  ap- 
parent interest. 

"  Are  'ee  blind,  Billee  ?     Don't  'ee  see  his  mocassin  ?  " 

"  Yes,  you're  right,  but  I  was  in  thar  nation  two  years 
ago.     I  seed  no  such  man  as  that." 

"  He  w'an't  there." 

"  Whar  then  ?  " 

"  Whur  thur's  no  great  show  o'  redskins.  He  may  shoot 
well;  he  did  oncest  on  a  time:  plumb  center." 

"  You  knew  him,  did  ye  ?  " 

"  O-ee-es.  Oncest.  Putty  squaw :  hansum  gal.  Whur 
do  'ee  want  me  to  go  ?  " 

I  thought  that  Garey  seemed  inclined  to  carry  the  con- 
versation farther.  There  was  an  evident  interest  in  his 
manner  when  the  other  mentioned  the  "  squaw."  Perhaps 
he  had  some  tender  recollection  ;  but  seeing  the  other  pre- 
paring to  start  off,  he  pointed  to  an  open  glade  that  stretched 
eastward,  and  simply  answered,  "Sixty." 

"  Take  care  o'  my  claws,  d'  yur  hear  1  Them  Injuns  has 
made  'em  scarce  :  this  child  can't  spare  another." 

The  old  trapper  said  this  with  a  flourish  of  his  right  hand. 
I  noticed  that  the  little  finger  had  been  chopped  off  I 

"  Never  fear,  old  hoss  !  "  was  the  reply  ;  and  at  this,  the 
smoky  carcase  moved  away  with  a  slow  and  regular  pace, 
that  showed  he  was  measuring  the  yards. 

When  he  had  stepped  the  sixtieth  yard,  he  faced  about, 
and  stood  erect,  placing  his  heels  together.  He  then  ex- 
tended his  right  arm,  raising  it  until  his  hand  was  on  a  level 
with  his  shoulder,  and  holding  the  shell  in  his  fingers,  flat 
side  to  the  front,  shouted  back — 

"  Now,  Billee,  shoot,  and  be  hanged  to  yur  I  " 


l66  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

The  shell  was  slightly  concave,  the  concavity  turned  to 
the  front.  The  thumb  and  finger  reached  half  round  the 
circumference,  so  that  a  part  of  the  edge  was  hidden  ;  and 
the  surface  turned  towards  the  marksman  was  not  larger 
than  the  dial  of  a  common  watch. 

This  was  a  fearful  sight.  It  is  one  not  so  common  among 
the  mountain  men  as  travelers  would  have  you  believe.  The 
feat  proves  the  marksman's  skill ;  first,  if  successful,  by 
showing  the  strength  and  steadiness  of  his  nerves  ;  secondly, 
by  the  confidence  which  the  other  reposes  in  it,  thus  de- 
clared by  stronger  testimony  than  any  oath.  In  any  case, 
the  feat  of  holding  the  mark  is  at  least  equal  to  that  of  hit- 
ting it.  There  are  many  hunters  willing  to  risk  taking  the 
shot,  but  few  who  care  to  hold  the  shell. 

It  was  a  fearful  sight,  and  my  nerves  tingled  as  I  looked  on. 
Many  others  felt  as  I.  No  one  interfered.  There  were  few 
present  who  would  have  dared,  even  had  these  two  men  been 
making  preparation  to  fire  at  each  other.  Both  were  "  men 
of  mark  "  among  their  comrades  :  trappers  of  the  first  class. 

Garey,  drawing  a  long  breath,  planted  himself  firmly,  the 
heel  of  his  left  foot  opposite  to,  and  some  inches  in  advance 
of,  the  hollow  of  his  right.  Then,  jerking  up  his  gun,  and 
throwing  the  barrel  across  his  left  palm,  he  cried  out  to  his 
comrade — 

"  Steady,  ole  bone  an'  sinyer  !  hyar's  at  ye  !  " 

The  words  were  scarcely  out  when  the  gun  was  leveled. 
There  was  a  moment's  death-like  silence,  all  eyes  looking 
to  the  mark.  Then  came  the  crack,  and  the  shell  was  seen 
to  fly,  shivered  into  fifty  fragments  !  There  was  a  cheer  from 
the  crowd.  Old  Rube  stopped  to  pick  up  one  of  the  pieces, 
and  after  examining  it  for  a  moment,  shouted  in  a  loud  voice — 

"  Plumb  center,  by !  " 

The  young  trapper  had,  in  effect,  hit  the  mark  in  the  very 
center,  as  the  blue  stain  of  the  bullet  testified. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


A    FEAT    A    LA    TELL. 


LL  eyes  were  turned  upon  the  strange 
Indian.  During  the  scene  described, 
he  has  stood  silent,  and  calmly  look- 
ing on.  His  eye  now  wanders  over 
the  ground,  apparently  in  search  of 
an  object. 

A  small  convolvulus,  known  as  the  "  prairie  gourd,"  is 
lying  at  his  feet.  It  is  globe-shaped,  about  the  size  of  an 
orange,  and  not  unlike  one  in  color.  He  stoops  and  takes 
it  up.  He  seems  to  examine  it  with  great  care,  balancing  it 
upon  his  hand,  as  though  he  was  calculating  its  weight. 

What  does  he  intend  to  do  with  this  ?  Will  he  fling  it  up, 
and  send  his  bullet  through  it  in  the  air  ?     What  else  ? 

His  motions  are  watched  in  silence.  Nearly  all  the  scalp- 
hunters,  sixty  or  seventy,  are  on  the  ground.  Seguin  only, 
with  the  doctor  and  a  few  men,  is  engaged  some  distance  off 
pitching  a  tent.  Garey  stands  upon  one  side,  slightly  elated 
with  his  triumph,  but  not  without  feelings  of  apprehension 
that  he  may  yet  be  beaten.  Old  Rube  has  gone  back  to  the 
fire,  and  is  roasting  another  rib. 

167 


l63  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

The  gourd  seems  to  satisfy  the  Indian,  for  whatever  pur- 
pose he  intends  it.  A  long  piece  of  bone,  the  thigh  joint 
of  the  war-eagle,  hangs  suspended  over  his  breast.  It  is 
curiously  carved,  and  pierced  with  holes  like  a  musical 
instrument.     It  is  one. 

He  places  this  to  his  lips,  covering  the  holes  with  his 
fingers.  He  sounds  three  notes,  oddly  inflected,  but  loud 
and  sharp.  He  drops  the  instrument  again,  and  stands 
looking  eastward  into  the  woods.  The  eyes  of  all  present 
are  bent  in  the  same  direction.  The  hunters,  influenced  by 
a  mysterious  curiosity,  remain  silent,  or  speak  only  in  low 
mutterings. 

Like  an  echo,  the  three  notes  are  answered  by  a  similar 
signal  1  It  is  evident  that  the  Indian  has  a  comrade  in  the 
woods,  yet  not  one  of  the  band  seems  to  know  aught  of  him 
or  his  comrade.     Yes,  one  does.     It  is  Rube. 

"  Look'ee  hyur,  boyees !  "  cries  he,  squinting  over  his 
shoulders ;  "  I'll  stake  this  rib  against  a  griskin  o'  poor  bull, 
that  'ee'll  see  the  puttiest  gal  as  'ee  ever  set  yur  eyes  on." 

There  is  no  reply :  we  are  gazing  too  intently  for  the 
expected  arrival. 

A  rustling  is  heard,  as  of  some  one  parting  the  bushes, 
the  thread  of  a  light  foot,  the  snapping  of  twigs.  A  bright 
object  appears  among  the  leaves.  Some  one  is  coming 
through  the  underwood.     It  is  a  woman. 

It  is  an  Indian  girl  attired  in  a  singular  and  picturesque 
costume. 

She  steps  out  of  the  bushes,  and  comes  boldly  towards  the 
crowd.  All  eyes  are  turned  upon  her  with  looks  of  wonder 
and  admiration.  We  scan  her  face  and  figure,  and  her 
striking  attire. 

She  is  dressed  not  unlike  the  Indian  himself,  and  there  is 
resemblance  in  other  respects.  The  tunic  worn  by  the  girl 
is  of  finer  materials:  of  fawn-skin.     It  is  richly  trimmed, 


A    FEAT   A    LA   TELL.  I 69 

and  worked  with  split  quills,  stained  to  a  variety  of  bright 
colors.  It  hangs  to  the  middle  of  the  thighs,  ending  in  a 
fringe-work  of  shells,  that  tinkle  as  she  moves. 

Her  limbs  are  wrapped  in  leggings  of  scarlet  cloth,  fringed 
like  the  tunic,  and  reaching  to  the  ankles,  where  they  meet 
the  flaps  of  her  mocassins.  These  last  are  white,  embroid- 
ered with  stained  quills,  and  fitting  closely  to  her  small  feet. 

A  belt  of  wampun  closes  the  tunic  on  her  waist,  exhibit- 
ing the  globular  developments  of  a  full-grown  bosom,  and 
the  undulating  outlines  of  a  womanly  person.  Her  head- 
dress is  similar  to  that  worn  by  her  companion,  but  smaller 
and  lighter  ;  and  her  hair,  like  his,  hangs  loosely  down, 
reaching  almost  to  the  ground !  Her  neck,  throat,  and 
part  of  her  bosom  are  nude,  and  clustered  over  with  bead- 
strings  of  various  colors. 

The  expression  of  her  countenance  is  high  and  noble. 
Her  eye  is  oblique.  The  lips  are  meet  with  a  double  curve, 
and  the  throat  is  full  and  rounded.  Her  complexion  is 
Indian  ;  but  a  crimson  hue,  struggling  through  the  brown 
upon  her  cheek,  gives  that  pictured  expression  to  her  coun- 
tenance which  may  be  observed  in  the  quadroon  of  the  West 
Indies. 

She  is  a  girl,  though  full-grown  and  boldly  developed :  a 
type  of  health  and  savage  beauty. 

As  she  approaches,  the  men  murmur  their  admiration. 
There  are  hearts  beating  under  hunting-shirts  that  rarely 
deign  to  dream  of  the  charms  of  woman. 

I  am  struck  at  this  moment  with  the  appearance  of  the 
young  trapper,  Garey.  His  face  has  fallen,  the  blood  has 
forsaken  his  cheeks,  his  lips  are  white  and  compressed,  and 
1  lark  rings  have  formed  around  his  eyes.  They  express 
anger,  but  there  is  still  another  meaning  in  them. 

Is  it  jealousy  ?     Yes  1 

He  has   stepped  behind  one  of  his  comrades,  as  if  he  did 


1 7o 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


not  wish  to  be  seen.  One  hand  is  playing  involuntarily 
with  the  handle  of  his  knife.  The  other  grasps  the  barrel 
of  his  gun,  as  though  he  would  crush  it  between  his  fingers  ! 
The  girl  comes  up.  The  Indian  hands  her  the  gourd, 
muttering  some  words  in  an  unknown  tongue,  unknown  at 
least  to  me.  She  takes  it  without  making  any  reply,  and 
walks  off  towards  the  spot  where  Rube  had  stood,  which  has 
been  pointed  out  to  her  by  her  companion. 


Grizzly  Carrying  off  a  Colt. 


She  reaches  the  tree,  and  halts  in  front  of  it,  facing  round 
as  the  trapper  had  done. 

There  was  something  so  dramatic,  so  theatrical,  in  the 
whole  proceeding,  that  up  to  the  present  time  we  had  all 
stood  waiting  for  the  denouement  in  silence.  Now  we  knew 
what  it  was  to  be,  and  the  men  began  to  talk. 

"  Hevs  a-goin'  to  shoot  the  gourd  from  the  hand  of  the 
gal,"  suggested  a  hunter. 


A   FEAT   A   LA  TELL.  l7l 

"  No  great  shot  after  all,"  added  another ;  and  indeed 
this  was  the  silent  opinion  of  most  on  the  ground. 

"  Wagh  !  it  don't  beat  Garey  if  he  diz  hit  it,"  exclaimed 
a  third. 

What  was  our  amazement  at  seeing  the  girl  fling  off  her 
plumed  bonnet,  place  the  gourd  upon  her  head,  fold  her 
arms  over  her  bosom,  and  standing  fronting  us  as  calm  and 
immobile  as  if  she  had  been  carved  upon  the  tree  ! 

There  was  a  murmur  in  the  crowd.  The  Indian  was  rais- 
ing his  rifle  to  take  aim,  when  a  man  rushed  forward  to  pre- 
vent him.     It  was  Garey  ! 

"  No,  yer  don't !  No  !  "  cried  he,  clutching  the  leveled 
rifle ;  "  she's  deceived  me,  that's  plain,  but  I  won't  see  the 
gal  that  once  loved  me,  or  said  she  did,  in  the  trap  that 
a-way.     No  !  Bill  Garey  ain't  a-goin'  to  standby  and  see  it." 

"  What  is  this  ?  "  shouted  the  Indian  in  a  voice  of  thunder 
"  Who  dares  to  interrupt  me  ?  " 

"  I  dares,"  replied  Garey.  "  She's  yourn  now,  I  suppose. 
You  may  take  her  whar  ye  like  ;  and  take  this  too,"  con- 
tinued he,  tearing  off  the  embroidered  pipe-case,  and  fling- 
ing it  at  the  Indian's  feet ;  "  but  ye're  not  a-goin'  to  shoot 
her  down  whiles  I  stand  by." 

"  By  what  right  do  you  interrupt  me  ?  My  sister  is  not 
afraid,  and " 

"Your  sister /" 

"  Yes,  my  sister." 

"And  is  yon  gal  your  sister?"  eagerly  inquired  Garey, 
his  manner  and  the  expression  of  his  countenance  all  at 
once  changing. 

¥  She  is.     I  have  said  she  is." 

"  And  are  you  El  Sol  ?  " 

"  I  am." 

"  I  ask  your  pardon  ;  but " 

"  I  pardon  you.     Let  me  proceed !  " 


172  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  Oh,  sir,  do  not.  No !  no  1  She  is  your  sister,  and  I 
know  you  have  the  right,  but  thar's  no  needcessity.  I  have 
heerd  of  your  shootin'.  I  give  in,  you  kin  beat  me.  For 
Heaven's  sake,  do  not  risk  it ;  as  you  care  for  her, 
do  not ! " 

"  There  is  no  risk.     I  will  show  you." 

"  No,  no  !  If  you  must,  then,  let  me  1  I  will  hold  it. 
Oh,  let  me  !  "  stammered  the  hunter  in  tones  of  entreaty. 

"  Hilloo  Billee  !  What's  the  dratted  rumpus  ?  cried  Rube, 
coming  up.  "  Hang  it,  man  !  let's  see  the  shot.  I've  heern 
o'  it  afore.  Don't  be  skeert,  ye  fool !  he'll  do  it  like  a  breeze  ; 
he  will !  " 

And  as  the  old  trapper  said  this,  he  caught  his  comrade 
by  the  arm,  and  swung  him  round  out  of  the  Indian's  way. 

The  girl,  during  all  this,  had  stood  still,  seemingly  not 
knowing  the  cause  of  the  interruption.  Garey's  back  was 
turned  to  her,  and  the  distance,  with  two  years  of  separation, 
doubtless  prevented  her  from  recognizing  him. 

Before  Garey  could  turn  to  interpose  himself,  the  rifle  was 
at  the  Indian's  shoulder  and  leveled.  His  finger  was  on 
the  trigger,  and  his  eye  glanced  through  the  sights.  It 
was  too  late  to  interfere.  Any  attempt  at  that  might  bring 
about  the  dreaded  result.  The  hunter,  as  he  turned,  saw 
this,  and  halting  in  his  tracks,  stood  straining  and  silent. 

It  was  a  moment  of  terrible  suspense  to  all  of  us ;  a 
moment  of  intense  emotion.  The  silence  was  profound. 
Every  breath  seemed  suspended ;  every  eye  was  fixed  on  the 
yellow  object,  not  larger,  I  have  said,  than  an  orange.  Oh, 
God  1  will  the  shot  never  come  ? 

It  came.  The  flash,  the  crack,  the  stream  of  fire,  the 
wild  hurrah,  the  forward  rush,  were  all  simultaneous  things. 
We  saw  the  shivered  globe  fly  off.  The  girl  was  still  upon 
her  feet ;  she  was  safe  ! 

I  ran  with  the  rest.     The  smoke  for  a  moment  blinded 


A   FEAT   A    LA   TELL. 


173 


me.  I  heard  the  shrill  notes  of  the  Indian  whistle.  I 
looked  before  me.     The  girl  had  disappeared. 

We  ran  to  the  spot  where  she  had  stood.  We  heard  a 
rustling  in  the  underwood,  a  departing  footstep.  We  knew 
it  was  she  ;  but  guided  by  an  instinct  of  delicacy,  and  a 
knowledge  that  it  wo'uld  be  contrary  to  the  wish  of  her  brother, 
no  one  followed  her. 

We  found  the  fragments  of  the  calabash  strewed  over  the 
ground.  We  found  the  leaden  mark  upon  them.  The 
bullet  itself  was  buried  in  the  bark  of  the  tree,  and  one  of 
the  hunters  commenced  digging  it  out  with  the  point  of  his 
bowie. 

When  we  turned  to  go  back,  we  saw  that  the  Indian  had 
walked  away,  and  now  stood  chatting  easily  and  familiarly 
with  Seguin. 

As  we  re-entered  the  camp-ground,  I  observed  Garey  stoop 
and  pick  up  a  shining  object.  It  was  the  gage  d"1  amour, 
which  he  carefully  readjusted  around  his  neck,  in  its  wonted 
position. 

From  his  look,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  handled  it, 
it  was  plain  that  he  now  regarded  that  souvenir  with  more 
reverence  than  ever. 


Mexican  Peccary :  the  Terror  of  Hunters. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


A  FEAT  A  LA   TAIL. 

HAD  fallen  into  a  sort 

of   reverie.      My  mind 

was    occupied  with  the 

incidents    I    had    just 

witnessed,  when  a  voice  which  I 

recognized    as  that  of  old  Rube, 

roused  me  from  my  abstraction. 

"  Look'ee  hyur,  boyees !  'Tain't's 
of 'n  as  ole  Rube  wastes  lead,  but 
I'll  beat  that  Injun's  shot,  or  'ee 
may  cut  my  ears  off." 
A  loud  laugh  hailed  this  allusion 
of  the  trapper  to  his  ears,  which,  as  we  have  observed,  were 
already  gone  ;  and  so  closely  had  they  been  trimmed  that 
nothing  remained  for  either  knife  or  shears  to  accomplish. 

"  How  will  you  do  it,  Rube  ?  "  cried  one  of  the  hunters  ; 
"  shoot  the  mark  off  a  yer  own  head  ?  " 

"I'll  let  'ee  see  if  'ee  wait,"  replied  Rube,  stalking  up  to 
a  tree,  and  taking  from  its  rest  a  long  heavy  rifle,  which  he 
proceeded  to  wipe  out  with  care. 
174 


A   FEAT  A   LA  TAIL.  1 75 

The  attention  of  all  was  now  turned  to  the  maneuvers  of 
the  old  trapper.  Conjecture  was  busy  as  to  his  designs. 
What  feat  could  he  perform  that  would  eclipse  the  one  just 
witnessed  ?     No  one  could  guess. 

"  I'll  beat  it,"  continued  he,  muttering  as  he  loaded  his 
piece,  "  or  'ee  may  chop  the  little  finger  off  ole  Rube's  right 
paw." 

Another  peal  of  laughter  followed,  as  all  perceived  that 
this  was  the  finger  that  was  wanting. 

"  'Ee — es,"  continued  he,  looking  at  the  faces  that  were 
around  him,  "  'ee  may  scalp  me  if  I  don't." 

This  last  remark  elicited  fresh  roars  of  laughter;  for 
although  the  catskin  was  closely  drawn  upon  his  head,  all 
present  knew  that  old  Rube  was  minus  his  scalp. 

"  But  how  are  ye  goin'  to  do  it  ?     Tell  us  that,  old  hoss !  " 

"  'Ee  see  this,  do  'ee  ?  "  asked  the  trapper,  holding  out  a 
small  fruit  of  the  cactus  pitahaya,  which  he  had  just  plucked 
and  cleaned  of  its  spikelets, 

"  Ay,  ay,"   cried  several  voices,  in  reply. 

"  'Ee  do,  do  'ee  ?  Wal ;  'ee  see  'tain't  half  as  big  as  the 
Injun's  squash.     'Ee  see  that,  do  'ee  ?  " 

"  Oh,  sartinly  !     Any  fool  can  see  that." 

"  Wal ;  s'pose  I  plug  it  at  sixty,  plumb  center  ?  " 

"  Wagh  !  "  cried  several,  with  shrugs  of  disappointment. 

"  Stick  it  on  a  pole,  and  any  o'  us  can  do  that,"  said  the 
principal  speaker.  "  Here's  Barney  could  knock  it  off  wid 
his  owld  musket.     Couldn't  you,  Barney  ?  " 

"  In  troth,  an'  I  could  thry,"  answered  a  very  small  man, 
leaning  upon  a  musket,  and  who  was  dressed  in  a  tattered 
uniform  that  had  once  been  sky-blue.  I  had  already  noticed 
this  individual  with  some  curiosity,  partly  struck  with  his 
peculiar  costume,  but  more  particularly  on  account  of  the 
redness  of  his  hair,  which  was  the  reddest  I  had  ever  seen. 
It  bore  the  marks  of  a  severe  barrack  discipline :  that  is,  it 


176  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

had  been  shaved,  and  was  now  growing  out  of  his  little  round 
head  short  and  thick,  and  coarse  in  the  grain,  and  of  the 
color  of  a  scraped  carrot.  There  was  no  possibility  of 
mistaking  Barney's  nationality.  In  trapper  phrase,  any  fool 
could  have  told  that. 

What  had  brought  such  an  individual  to  such  a  place  ?  I 
asked  this  question,  and  was  soon  enlightened.  He  had 
been  a  soldier  in  a  frontier  post :  one  of  uncle  Sam's  "  sky- 
blues."  He  had  got  tired  of  pork  and  pipe-clay,  accompanied 
with  a  too  liberal  allowance  of  the  "  hide."  In  a  word, 
Barney  was  a  deserter.  What  his  name  was  I  know  not,  but 
he  went  under  the  appellation  of  O'Cork :  Barney  O'Cork. 

A  laugh  greeted  this  answer  to  the  hunter's  question. 

"  Any  o'  us,"  continued  the  speaker,  "  could  plug  the  per- 
simmon that  a  way.  But  thar's  a  mighty  heap  o'  diff'rence 
when  you  squints  thro'  hind-sights  at  a  gal  like  yon." 

"  Ye're  right,  Dick,"  said  another  hunter ;  "  it  makes  a 
feller  feel  queery  about  the  jeints." 

"  Holy  vistment !  An'  wasn't  she  a  raal  beauty  ? "  ex- 
claimed the  little  Irishman,  with  an  earnestness  in  his  manner 
that  set  the  trappers  roaring  again. 

"  Pish  !  "  cried  Rube,  who  had  now  finished  loading,  "  yur 
a  set  o'  channering  fools  ;  that's  what  'ee  ur.  Who  palavered 
about  a  post  ?  I've  got  an  ole  squaw  as  well's  the  Injun. 
She'll  hold  the  thing  for  this  child— she.  will." 

"  Squaw  !     You  a  squaw  ?  " 

"  Yes,  hoss ;  I  has  a  squaw  I  wudn't  swop  for  two  o' 
his'n.  I'll  make  tracks,  an'  fetch  the  old  'oman.  Shet  up 
yur  heads,  an'  wait,  will  ye  ?  " 

So  saying,  the  smoky  old  sinner  shouldered  his  rifle,  and 
walked  off  into  the  woods. 

I,  in  common  with  others,  late  comers,  who  were  strangers 
to  Rube,  began  to  think  that  he  had  an  "  old  'oman." 
There  were  no  females  to  be  seen  about  the  encampment, 

* 


A    FEAT   A    LA   TAIL. 


177 


bit  perhaps  she  was  hid  away  in  the  woods.  The  trappers, 
hovever,  who  knew  him,  seemed  to  understand  that  the  old 
fellow  had  some  trick  in  his  brain ;  and  that,  it  appeared, 
was  10  new  thing  for  him. 

We  were  not  kept  long  in  suspense.  In  a  few  minutes 
Rube  -vas  seen  returning,  and  by  his  side  the  "  old  'oman," 
in  the  shape  of  a  long,  lank,  bare-ribbed,  high-boned  mustang, 
that  turned  out  on  close  inspection  to  be  a  mare !  This, 
then,  was  Rube's  squaw,  and  she  was  not  at  all  unlike  him, 


MM^.  ^  { •d*r 


Puma,  or  American  Lion  of  Mexico 

excepting  the  ears.  She  was  long-eared,  in  common  with  all 
her  race :  the  same  as  that  upon  which  Quixote  charged  the 
windmill.  The  long  ears  caused  her  to  look  mulish,  but  it 
was  only  in  appearance ;  she  was  a  pure  mustang  when  you 
examined  her  attentively.  She  seemed  to  have  been  at  an 
earlier  period  of  that  dun-yellowish  color  known  as  "  clay- 
bank  :  "  a  common  color  among  Mexican  horses  ;  but  time 
and  scars  had  somewhat  metamorphosed  her,  and  gray  hairs 
predominated  all  over,  particularly  about  the  head  and  neck. 
These  parts  were  covered  with  a  dirty  grizzle  of  mixed  hues. 
She   was   badly   wind-broken ;    and  at  stated  intervals,  of 


178  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

several  minutes  each,  her  back,  from  the  spasmodic  action 
of  the  lungs,  heaved  up  with  a  jerk,  as  though  she  was  try- 
ing to  kick  with  her  hind  legs,  and  couldn't.  She  was  as 
thin  as  a  rail,  and  carried  her  head  below  the  level  of  her 
shoulders ;  but  there  was  something  in  the  twinkle  of  her 
solitary  eye  (for  she  had  but  one),  that  told  you  she  had  no 
intention  of  giving  up  for  a  long  time  to  come.  She  was 
evidently  "  game  to  the  backbone." 

Such  was  the  "  old  'oman "  Rube  had  promised  to 
fetch ;  and  she  was  greeted  by  a  loud  laugh  as  he  led 
her  up. 

"  Now,  look'ee  hyur,  boyees,"  said  he,  halting  in  front  of 
the  crowd.  "  'Ee  may  larf,  an'  gabble,  an'  grin  till  yur  sick 
in  the  guts — yur  may !  but  this  child's  a-gwine  to  take  the 
shine  out  o'  that  Injun's  shot — he  is,  or  bust  a-tryin'." 

Several  of  the  bystanders  remarked  that  that  was  likely 
enough,  and  that  they  only  waited  to  see  in  what  manner  it 
was  to  be  done.  No  one  who  knew  him  doubted  old  Rube 
to  be,  as  in  fact  he  was,  one  of  the  very  best  marksmen  in 
the  mountains  :  fully  equal  perhaps  to  the  Indian  ;  but  it 
was  the  style  and  circumstances  which  had  given  such  kdat 
to  the  shot  of  the  latter.  It  was  not  every  day  that  a  beautiful 
girl  could  be  found  to  stand  fire  as  the  squaw  had  done  ; 
and  it  was  not  every  hunter  who  would  have  ventured  to  fire 
at  a  mark  so  placed.  The  strength  of  the  feat  lay  in  its 
newness,  and  peculiarity.  The  hunters  had  often  fired  at  the 
mark  held  in  one  another's  hands.  There  were  few  who 
would  like  to  carry  it  on  their  head.  How  then  was  Rube 
to  "  take  the  shine  out  o'  that  Injun's  shot?  "  This  was  the 
question  that  each  was  asking  the  other,  and  which  was  at 
length  put  directly  to  Rube  himself. 

u  Shet  up  your  meat-traps,"  answered  he,  "  an'  I'll  show  'ee. 
In  the  fust  place,  then,  'ee  all  see  that  this  hyur  prickly  ain't 
moro'n  hef  size  0'  the  squash  ?  " 


A   FEAT   A    LA   TAIL.  1 79 

"Yes,  sartinly,"  answered  several  voices.  "  That  wur 
one  sukumstance  in  his  favor.     Wa'nt  it  ?  " 

"  It  wur  !  it  wur  !  " 

"  Wat,  hyur's  another.  The  Injun,  'ee  see,  shot  his  mark 
off  o'  the  head.  Now,  this  child's  a-gwine  to  knock  his'n 
off  o'  the  tail.     Kud  yur  Injun  do  that  ?     Eh,  boyees  ?  " 

"No,  no!  " 

"  Do  that  beat  him,  or  do  it  not,  then  ?  " 

"  It  beats  him  !  "  "  It  does  !  "  "  Far  better  !  "  "  Hooray  I  " 
vociferated  several  voices,  amidst  yells  of  laughter.  No  one 
dissented,  as  the  hunters,  pleased  with  the  joke,  were  anxious 
to  see  it  carried  through. 

Rube  did  not  detain  them  long.  Leaving  his  rifle  in  the 
hands  of  his  friend  Garey,  he  led  the  old  mare  up  towards 
the  spot  that  had  been  occupied  by  the  Indian  girl.  Reach- 
ing this,  he  halted. 

We  all  expected  to  see  him  turn  the  animal  with  her  side 
towards  us,  thus  leaving  her  body  out  of  range.  It  soon  be- 
came evident  that  this  was  not  the  old  fellow's  intention. 
It  would  have  spoiled  the  look  of  the  thing,  had  he  done  so ; 
and  that  idea  was  no  doubt  running  in  his  mind. 

Choosing  a  place  where  the  ground  chanced  to  be  slightly 
hollowed  out,  he  led  the  mustang  forward,  until  her  fore  feet 
rested  in  the  hollow.  The  tail  was  thus  thrown  above  the 
body. 

Having  squared  her  hips  to  the  camp,  he  whispered  some- 
thing at  her  head  ;  and  going  round  to  the  hind  quarters, 
adjusted  the  pear  upon  the  highest  curve  of  the  stump.  He 
then  came  walking  back. 

Would  the  mare  stand  ?  No  fear  of  that.  She  had  been 
trained  to  stand  in  one  place  for  a  longer  period  than  was 
now  required  of  her. 

The  appearance  which  the  old  mare  exhibited,  nothing 
visible  but  her  hind  legs  and  buttocks,  for  the  mules  had 


l8o  THE    SCALP- HUNTERS. 

stripped  her  tail  of  the  hair,  had  by  this  time  wound  the 
spectators  up  to  the  risible  point,  and  most  of  them  were 
yelling. 

"  Stop  yur  giggle-goggle,  will  yur !  "  said  Rube,  clutching 
his  rifle,  and  taking  his  stand.  The  laughter  was  held  in, 
no  one  wishing  to  disturb  the  shot. 

"  Now,  old  Tar-guts,  don't  waste  your  fodder !  "■  muttered 
the  trapper,  addressing  his  gun,  which  the  next  moment  was 
raised  and  leveled. 

No  one  doubted  but  that  Rube  would  hit  the  object  at 
which  he  was  aiming.  It  was  a  shot  frequently  made  by 
western  riflemen  :  that  is,  a  mark  of  the  same  size,  at  sixty 
yards.  And,  no  doubt,  Rube  would  have  done  it ;  but,  just 
at  the  moment  of  his  pulling  trigger,  the  mare's  back  heaved 
up  in  one  of  its  periodic  jerks,  and  the  pitahaya  fell  to  the 
ground. 

But  the  ball  had  sped ;  and,  grazing  the  animal's  shoulder, 
passed  through  one  of  her  ears  ! 

The  direction  of  the  bullet  was  not  known  until  afterwards, 
but  its  effect  was  visible  at  once  ;  for  the  mare,  stung  in  her 
tenderest  part,  uttered  a  sort  of  human-like  scream  ;  and 
wheeling  about,  came  leaping  into  camp,  kicking  over  every- 
thing that  happened  to  lie  in  her  way. 

The  yells  and  loud  laughing  of  the  trappers,  the  odd 
ejaculations  of  the  Indians,  the  "  vayas  "  and  "  vivas  "  of 
the  Mexicans,  the  wild  oaths  of  old  Rube  himself,  all  formed 
a  medley  of  sounds  that  fell  strangely  upon  the  ear,  and  to 
give  an  idea  of  which  is  beyond  the  art  of  my  pen. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


THE    PROGRAM. 

SHORTLY  after,  I  was  wandering  out  to 
the  caballada  to  look  after  my  horse,  when 
the  sound  of  a  bugle  fell  upon  my  ear.  It 
was  the  signal  for  the  men  to  assemble, 
and  I  turned  back  towards  the  camp. 

As  I  re-entered  it,  Seguin  was  standing 
near  his  tent,  with  the  bugle  still  in  his 
hand.  The  hunters  were  gathering  around 
him. 

They  were  soon  all  assembled,  and  stood 

in  groups,  waiting  for  the  chief  to  speak. 

"  Comrades  !  "  said  Seguin,  "  to-morrow  we  break  up  this 

camp  for  an  expedition  against  the  enemy.     I  have  brought 

you  together  that  you  may  know  my  plans  and  lend  me  your 

advice." 

A  murmur  of  applause  followed  this  announcement.     The 
breaking  up  of  a  camp  is  always  joyous  news  to  men  whose 
trade  is  war.     It  seemed  to  have  a  like  effect  upon  this  mot- 
ley group  of  guerilleros. 
The  chief  continued — 

181 


1 82  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  It  is  not  likely  that  you  will  have  much  fighting.  Our 
dangers  will  be  those  of  the  desert ;  but  we  will  endeavor  to 
provide  against  them  in  the  best  manner  possible. 

"  I  have  learned,  from  a  reliable  source,  that  our  enemies 
are,  at  this  very  time,  about  starting  upon  a  grand  expedition 
to  plunder  the  towns  of  Sonora  and  Chihuahua. 

"  It  is  their  intention,  if  not  met  by  the  government  troops, 
to  extend  their  foray  to  Durango  itself.  Both  tribes  have 
combined  in  this  movement ;  and  it  is  believed  that  all  the 
warriors  will  proceed  southward,  leaving  their  country  un- 
protected behind  them. 

"  It  is  my  intention  then,  as  soon  as  I  can  ascertain  that 
they  have  gone  out,  to  enter  their  territory,  and  pierce  to  the 
main  town  of  the  Navajoes." 

"  Bravo !  "  "  Hooray !  "  "  Bueno !  "  "  Tres  bien  1  " 
"  Good  as  wheat  1  "  and  numerous  other  exclamations,  hailed 
this  declaration. 

"  Some  of  you  know  my  object  in  making  this  expedition. 
Others  do  not.  I  will  declare  it  to  you  all.  It  is,  then, 
to " 

"  Git  a  grist  of  scalps ;  what  else  ?  "  cried  a  rough,  brutal- 
looking  fellow,  interrupting  the  chief. 

"  No,  Kirker ! "  replied  Seguin,  bending  his  eye  upon  the 
man,  with  an  expression  of  anger.  "  It  is  not  that.  We 
expect  to  meet  only  women.  On  his  peril  let  no  man  touch 
a  hair  upon  the  head  of  an  Indian  woman.  I  shall  pay  for 
no  scalps  of  women  or  children." 

"  Where  then  will  be  your  profits  ?  We  cannot  bring  them 
prisoners  ?  We'll  have  enough  to  do  to  get  back  ourselves? 
I  reckon,  across  them  deserts." 

These  questions  seemed  to  express  the  feelings  of  others 
of  the  band,  who  muttered  their  assent. 

"  You  shall  lose  nothing.  Whatever  prisoners  you  take 
shall  be  counted  on  the  ground,  and  every  man  shall  be  paid 


THE    PROGRAM.  183 

according  to  his  number.  When  we  return  I  will  make  that 
good." 

"  Oh !  that's  fair  enough,  captain,"  cried  several  voices. 

"  Let  it  be  understood  then,  no  women  nor  children.  The 
plunder  you  shall  have,  it  is  yours  by  our  laws,  but  no  blood 
that  can  be  spared.  There  is  enough  on  our  hands  already. 
Do  you  all  bind  yourselves  to  this  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes  !  "  "  Si !  "  "  Oui,  oui !  "  "  Ya,  ya  1  "  "  All !  " 
"  Todos,  todos !  "  cried  a  multitude  of  voices,  each  man 
answering  in  his  own  language. 

"  Let  those  who  do  not  agree  to  it  speak." 

A  profound  silence  followed  this  proposal.  All  had  bound 
themselves  to  the  wishes  of  their  leader. 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  are  unanimous.  I  will  now  state  my 
purpose  fully.     It  is  but  just  you  should  know  it." 

"  Ay,  let  us  know  that,"  muttered  Kirker,  "  if  'tain't  to 
raise  har  we're  goin'." 

"  We  go  then  to  seek  for  our  friends  and  relatives,  who 
for  years  have  been  captives  to  our  savage  enemy.  There 
are  many  among  us  who  have  lost  kindred,  wives,  sisters, 
and  daughters." 

A  murmur  of  assent,  uttered  chiefly  by  men  in  Mexican 
costume,  testified  to  the  truth  of  this  statement. 

"  I  myself,"  continued  Seguin,  and  his  voice  slightly 
trembled  as  he  spoke,  "  am  among  that  number.  Years, 
long  years  ago,  I  was  robbed  of  my  child  by  the  Navajoes. 
I  have  lately  learned  that  she  is  still  alive,  and  at  their  head 
town,  with  many  other  white  captives.  We  go,  then,  to  re- 
lease and  restore  them  to  their  friends  and  homes." 

A  shout  of  approbation  broke  from  the  crowd,  mingled 
with  exclamations  of  "  Bravo  !  "  "  We'll  fetch  them  back  1  " 
"Vive  le  capitaine  !  "  "  Viva  el  gefe !  " 

When  silence  was  restored,  Seguin  continued — 

"You  know  our  purpose.     You  have  approved  it.     /will 


184 


THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 


now  make  known  to  you  the  plan  I  had  designed  for  accom- 
plishing it,  and  listen  to  your  advice." 

H 


sie^ 


^H 


■■■■.■■■■ 
B'l  J'--;,;' 

life 


Mm*. 


iMS 


»I 


HPi 


s^sfrX&i 


The  Scalp- Hunters  at  Supper. 


Here  the  chief  paused  a  moment,  while  the  men  remained 
silent  and  waiting. 

"  There  are  three  passes,"  continued  he  at  length,  "  by 
which  we  might  enter  the  Indian  country  from  this  side. 


THE    PROGRAM.  I 85 

There  is,  first,  the  route  of  the  Western  Puerco.  That 
would  lead  us  direct  to  the  Navajo  towns." 

"  And  why  not  take  that  way  ?  "  asked  one  of  the  hunters, 
a  Mexican.  "  I  know  the  route  well,  as  far  as  the  Pecos 
towns." 

"  Because  we  could  not  pass  the  Pecos  towns  without  be- 
ing seen  by  Navajo  spies.  There  are  always  some  of  them 
there.  Nay,  more,"  continued  Seguin,  with  a  look  that  ex- 
pressed a  hidden  meaning,  "  we  would  not  get  far  up  the 
Del  Norte  itself  before  the  Navajoes  would  be  warned  of  our 
approach.     We  have  enemies  nearer  home." 

"  Carrai !  that  is  true,"  said  a  hunter,  speaking  in  Spanish. 

"  Should  they  get  word  of  our  coming,  even  though  the 
warriors  had  gone  southward,  you  can  see  that  we  would 
have  a  journey  for  nothing." 

"  True,  true  !"  shouted  several  voices. 

"  For  the  same  reason,  we  cannot  take  the  pass  of  Pol- 
videra.  Besides,  at  this  season,  there  is  but  little  prospect 
of  game  on  either  of  these  routes.  We  are  not  prepared  for 
an  expedition  with  our  present  supply.  We  must  pass 
through  a  game  country  before  we  can  enter  on  the  desert." 

"  That  is  true,  captain ;  but  there  is  as  little  game  to  be 
met  if  we  go  by  the  old  mine.  What  other  road,  then,  can 
we  take  ?  " 

"  There  is  still  another  route  better  than  all,  I  think.  We 
will  strike  southward,  and  then  west  across  the  Llanos  to  the 
old  mission.  From  thence  we  can  go  north  into  the  Apache* 
country." 

"Yes,  yes  ;  that  is  the  best  way,  captain." 

"  We  Avill  have  a  longer  journey,  but  with  advantages. 
We  will  find  the  wild  cattle  or  the  buffaloes  upon  the  Llanos. 
Moreover,  we  will  make  sure  of  our  time,  as  we  can  cache  in 
the  Pinon  Hills  that  overlook  the  Apache  war-trail,  and  see 
our  enemies  pass  out.     When  they  have  gone  south,  we  can 


l86  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

cross  the  Gila,  and  keep  up  the  Azul  or  Prieto.  Having 
accomplished  the  object  of  our  expedition,  we  may  then 
return  homeward  by  the  nearest  route." 

"  Bravo  !  "  "  Viva !  "  «  That's  jest  right,  captain  I  " 
"  That's  clarly  our  best  plan  1  "  were  a  few  among  the  many 
forms  by  which  the  hunters  testified  their  approval  of  the 
program.  There  was  no  dissenting  voice.  The  word 
"  Prieto,"  struck  like  music  upon  their  ears.  That  was  a 
magic  word  :  the  name  of  the  far-famed  river  on  whose  waters 
the  trapper  legends  had  long  placed  the  El  Dorado,  "  the 
mountain  of  gold."  Many  a  story  of  this  celebrated  region 
had  been  told  at  the  hunters'  camp-fire,  all  agreeing  in  one 
point :  that  there  the  gold  lay  in  "  lumps  "  upon  the  surface 
of  the  ground,  and  filled  the  rivers  with  its  shining  grains. 
Often  had  the  trappers  talked  of  an  expedition  to  this  un- 
known land  ;  and  small  parties  were  said  to  have  actually 
entered  it,  but  none  of  these  adventurers  had  ever  been 
known  to  return. 

The  hunters  saw  now,  for  the  first  time,  the  prospect  of 
penetrating  this  region  with  safety,  and  their  minds  were 
filled  with  fancies  wild  and  romantic.  Not  a  few  of  them 
had  joined  Seguin's  band  in  hopes  that  some  day  this  very 
expedition  might  be  undertaken,  and  the  "  gold  mountain  " 
reached.  What,  then,  were  their  feelings,  when  Seguin  de- 
clared his  purpose  of  traveling  by  the  Prieto  !  At  the  men- 
tion of  it  a  buzz  of  peculiar  meaning  ran  through  the  crowd, 
and  the  men  turned  to  each  other  with  looks  of  satisfaction. 

"  To-morrow,  then,  we  shall  march,"  added  the  chief. 
"  Go  now  and  make  your  preparations ;  we  start  by  day- 
break." 

As  Seguin  ceased  speaking,  the  hunters  departed,  each  to 
look  after  his  "  traps  and  possibles  " ;  a  duty  soon  performed, 
as  these  rude  rangers  were  but  little  encumbered  with  camp 
equipage. 


THE   PROGRAM.  187 

I  sat  down  upon  a  log,  watching  for  some  time  the  move- 
ments of  my  wild  companions,  and  listening  to  their  rude 
and  Babel-like  converse. 

At  length  arrived  sunset,  or  night,  for  they  are  almost 
synonymous  in  these  latitudes.  Fresh  logs  were  flung  upon 
the  fires,  till  they  blazed  up.  The  men  sat  around  them, 
cooking,  eating,  smoking,  talking  loudly,  and  laughing  at 
stories  that  illustrated  their  own  wild  habits.  The  red  light 
fell  upon  fierce  dark  faces,  now  fiercer  and  more  swarthy 
under  the  glare  of  the  burning  Cottonwood. 

By  its  light  the  savage  expression  was  strengthened  on 
every  countenance.  Beards  looked  darker,  and  teeth  gleamed 
whiter  through  them.  Eyes  appeared  more  sunken,  and  their 
glances  more  brilliant  and  fiend-like.  Picturesque  costumes 
met  the  eye  :  turbans,  Spanish  hats,  plumes,  and  mottled 
garments  ;  escopettes  and  rifles  leaning  against  the  trees  ; 
saddles,  high-peaked,  resting  upon  logs  and  stumps  ;  bridles 
hanging  from  the  branches  overhead ;  strings  of  jerked  meat 
drooping  in  festoons  in  front  of  the  tents,  and  haunches  of 
venison  still  smoking  and  dripping  their  half -coagulated  drops  ! 

The  vermilion  smeared  on  the  foreheads  of  the  Indian 
warriors  gleamed  in  the  night  light  as  though  it  were  blood. 
It  was  a  picture  at  once  savage  and  warlike :  warlike,  but 
with  an  aspect  of  ferocity  at  which  the  sensitive  heart  drew 
back.  It  was  a  picture  such  as  may  be  seen  only  in  a 
bivouac  of  guerilleros,  of  brigands,  of  man-hunters. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


EL  SOL  AND  LA  LUNA. 


OME,"   said    Seguin, 
touching  me  on  the 
arm  "  our   supper  is 
ready  ;  I  see  the  doc- 
tor beckoning  us." 

I  was  not  slow  to  answer 
the  call,  for  the  cool  air 
of  the  evening  had  sharp- 
ened my  appetite. 

We  approached  the  tent,  in 
front  of  which  was  a  fire. 
Over  this,  the  doctor,  assisted  by  Gode*  and  a  pueblo  peon, 
was  just  giving  the  finishing  touch  to  a  savory  supper. 
Part  of  it  had  already  been  carried  inside  the  tent.  We 
followed  it,  and  took  our  seats  upon  saddles,  blankets  and 
packs. 

"Why,  doctor,"  said  Seguin,  "you  have  proved  yourself 
a  perfect  maitre  de  cuisine  to-night.  This  is  a  supper  for  a 
Lucullus." 

"  Achl  mein  captain,  ich  havegoet  help  ;  mein  herr  Gode 
assist  me  most  wonderful." 
188 


EL   SOL  AND    LA   LUNA.  1 89 

"  Well,  Mr.  Haller  and  I  will  do  full  justice  to  your  dishes. 
Let  us  to  them  at  once  !  " 

"  Oui,  oui  I  bien  Monsieur  Capitaine,"  said  Gode,  hurry- 
ing in  with  a  multitude  of  viands.  The  Canadien  was  al- 
ways in  his  element  when  there  was  plenty  to  cook  and  eat. 

We  were  soon  engaged  on  fresh  steaks  (of  wild  cows)  , 
roasted  ribs  of  venison,  dried  buffalo  tongues,  tortillas,  and 
coffee.  The  coffee  and  tortillas  were  the  labors  of  the 
pueblo,  in  the  preparation  of  which  viands  he  was  Godd's 
master. 

But  Gode  had  a  choice  dish,  un  petit  morcean,  in  reserve, 
which  he  brought  forth  with  a  triumphant  nourish. 

"Void,  messieurs?  "  cried  he,  setting  it  before  us. 

«  What  is  it,  Gode  ?  " 

"  Une  fricasse'e,  monsieur." 

"  Of  what?" 

"  Les  frog  ;  what  de  Yankee  call  boo-frog  1  " 

"  A  fricassee  of  bull-frogs  1  " 

"  Oui,  oui,  mon  maitre.     Voulez-vous  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you !  " 

"  I  will  trouble  you,  Monsieur  Gode,"  said  Seguin. 

"  Ich,  ich,  mein  Gode  ;  frocks  ver  goot ;  "  and  the  doctor 
held  out  his  platter  to  be  helped. 

"  Gode-,  in  wandering  by  the  river,  had  encountered  a  pond 
of  giant  frogs,  and  the  fricassee  was  the  result.  I  had  not 
then  overcome  my  national  antipathy  to  the  victims  of  St. 
Patrick's  curse ;  and,  to  the  voyageiu^s  astonishment,  I  re- 
fused to  share  the  dainty. 

During  our  supper  conversation  I  gathered  some  facts  of 
the  doctor's  history,  which,  with  what  I  had  already  learned, 
rendered  the  old  man  an  object  of  extreme  interest  to  me. 

Up  to  this  time,  I  had  wondered  what  such  a  character 
could  be  doing  in  such  company  as  that  of  the  Scalp-hunters. 
I  now  learnt  a  few  details  that  explained  all. 


190  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

His  name  was  Reichter  ;  Friedrich  Reichter.  He  was 
a  Strasburgher,  and  in  the  city  of  bells  had  been  a  medical 
practitioner  of  some  repute.  The  love  of  science,  but  par- 
ticularly of  his  favorite  branch,  botany,  had  lured  him  away 
from  his  Rhenish  home.  He  had  wandered  to  the  United 
States,  then  to  the  Far  West,  to  classify  the  flora  of  that  re- 
mote region.  He  had  spent  several  years  in  the  great  valley 
of  the  Mississippi ;  and,  falling  in  with  one  of  the  St.  Louis 
caravans,  had  crossed  the  prairies  to  the  oasis  of  New  Mexico. 
In  his  scientific  wanderings  along  the  Del  Norte,  he  had  met 
with  the  Scalp-hunters,  and  attracted  by  the  opportunity  thus 
afforded  him  of  penetrating  into  regions  hitherto  unexplored 
by  the  devotees  of  science,  he  had  offered  to  accompany  the 
band.  This  offer  was  gladly  accepted,  on  account  of  his  serv- 
ices as  their  medico ;  and  for  two  years  he  had  been  with 
them,  sharing  their  hardships  and  dangers. 

Many  a  scene  of  perils  had  he  passed  through,  many  a 
privation  had  he  undergone,  prompted  by  a  love  of  his 
favorite  study,  and  perhaps,  too,  by  the  dreams  of  future 
triumph,  when  he  would  one  day  spread  his  strange  flora  be- 
fore the  savants  of  Europe.  Poor  Reichter  !  Poor  Friedrich 
Reichter  !  yours  was  the  dream  of  a  dream  :  it  never  became 
a  reality  1 

Our  supper  was  at  length  finished,  and  washed  down  with 
a  bottle  of  Paso  wine.  There  was  plenty  of  this,  as  well  as 
Taos  whisky,  in  the  encampment ;  and  the  roars  of  laughter 
that  reached  us  from  without  proved  that  the  hunters  were 
imbibing  freely  of  the  latter. 

The  doctor  drew  out  his  great  meerschaum,  Gode  filled  3 
red  claystone,  while  Seguin  and  I  lit  our  husk  cigarettes. 

"  But  tell  me,"  said  I,  addressing  Seguin,  "  who  is  the 
Indian  ? — he  who  performed  the  wild  feat  of  shooting 
the " 

"  Ah !  El  Sol ;  he  is  a  Coco." 


EL   SOL   AND    LA    LUNA.  igi 

"  A  Coco  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  of  the  Maricopa  tribe." 

"  But  that  makes  me  no  wiser  than  before.     I  knew  that 
much  already." 

"  You  knew  it  ?     Who  told  you  ?  " 


Brought  to  Bay. 

"  I  heard  old  Rube  mention  the  fact  to  his  comrade 
Garey." 

"  Ay,  true  ;  he  should  know  him."  Seguin  remained  silent. 

"  Well  ?  "  continued  I,  wishing  to  learn  more.  "  Who  are 
the  Maricopas  ?     I  have  never  heard  of  them." 

"  It  is  a  tribe  but  little  known ;  a  nation  of  singular  men. 
They  are  foes  of  the  Apache  and  Navajo  ;  their  country  lies 


192  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

down  the  Gila.     They  came  originally  from  the  Pacific ;  from 
the  shores  of  the  Calif ornian  sea." 

"  But  this  man  is  educated,  or  seems  so.  He  speaks  Eng- 
lish and  French  as  well  as  you  or  I.  He  appears  to  be  tal- 
ented, intelligent,  polite  ;  in  short,  a  gentleman." 

"  He  is  all  you  have  said." 

"  I  cannot  understand  this." 

"  I  will  explain  to  you,  my  friend.  That  man  was  educated 
at  one  of  the  most  celebrated  unversities  in  Europe.  He  has 
traveled  farther,  and  through  more  countries,  perhaps  than 
either  of  us." 

"  But  how  did  he  accomplish  all  this  ?     An  Indian  !  " 
By  the  aid  of  that  which  has  often  enabled  very  little 
men  (though  El  Sol  is  not  one  of  those),  to  achieve  very 
great  deeds,  or  at  least  to  get  the  credit  of  having  done  so. 
By  gold." 

"  Gold  1  and  where  got  he  the  gold  ?  I  have  been  told 
that  there  is  very  little  of  it  in  the  hands  of  Indians.  The 
white  men  have  robbed  them  of  all  they  once  had." 

"  That  is  in  general  a  truth  ;  and  true  of  the  Maricopas. 
There  was  a  time  when  they  possessed  gold  in  large  quan- 
tities, and  pearls  too,  gathered  from  the  depths  of  the  Ver- 
milion Sea.  It  is  gone.  The  Jesuit  padres  could  tell 
whither." 

"  But  this  man  ?     El  Sol  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  chief.  He  has  not  lost  all  his  gold.  He  still 
holds  enough  to  serve  him,  and  it  is  not  likely  that  the  padres 
will  coax  it  from  him  for  either  beads  or  vermilion.  No  ; 
he  has  seen  the  world,  and  has  learnt  the  all  pervading  value 
of  that  shining  metal." 

"  But  his  sister  ? — is  she,  too,  educated  ?  " 

"  No.  Poor  Luna  is  still  a  savage ;  but  he  instructs  her 
in  many  things.  He  has  been  absent  for  several  years. 
He  has  returned  but  lately  to  his  tribe," 


EL   SOL   AND    LA    LUNA.  193 

"  Their  names  are  strange  :  '  The  Sun,'  '  The  Moon  ! '  " 

"  They  were  given  by  the  Spaniards  of  Sonora  ;  but  they 
are  only  translations  or  synonyms  of  their  Indian  appella- 
tions.    That  is  common  upon  the  frontier." 

"  Why  are  they  here  ?  " 

I  put  this  question  with  hesitation,  as  I  knew  there  might 
be  some  peculiar  history  connected  with  the  answer. 

"Partly,"  replied  Seguin,  "  from  gratitude  I  believe  to  my- 
self. I  rescued  El  Sol,  when  a  boy,  out  of  the  hands  of 
the  Navajoes.  Perhaps  there  is  still  another  reason.  But 
come  !  "  continued  he,  apparently  wishing  to  give  a  turn  to 
the  conversation  ;  "  you  shall  know  our  Indian  friends.  You 
are  to  be  companions  for  a  time.  He  is  a  scholar,  and  will 
interest  you.  Take  care  of  your  heart  with  the  gentle  Luna. 
Vincente  !  Go  to  the  tent  of  the  Coco  chief.  Ask  him  to 
come  and  drink  a  cup  of  Paso  wine.  Tell  him  to  bring  his 
sister  with  him." 

The  servant  hurried  away  through  the  camp.  While  he 
was  gone  we  conversed  about  the  feat  which  the  Coco  had 
performed  with  his  rifle. 

"  I  never  knew  him  to  fire,"  remarked  Seguin,  "  without 
hitting  his  mark.  There  is  something  mysterious  about  that. 
His  aim  is  unerring  ;  and  it  seems  to  be,  on  his  part,  an  act 
of  pure  volition.  There  may  be  some  guiding  principle  in  the 
mind,  independent  of  either  strength  of  nerve  or  sharpness 
of  sight.  He  and  another  are  the  only  persons  I  ever  knew 
to  possess  this  singular  power." 

The  last  part  of  this  speech  was  uttered  in  a  half  soliloquy ; 
and  Seguin,  after  delivering  it,  remained  for  some  moments 
silent  and  abstracted. 

Before  the  conversation  was  resumed,  El  Sol  and  his  sis- 
ter entered  the  tent,  and  Seguin  introduced  us  to  each  other. 
In  a  few  moments  we  were  engaged,  El  Sol,  the  doctor, 
Seguin,  and  myself,  in  an  animated  conversation.  The  sub- 
13 


194  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

ject  was  not  horses,  nor  guns,  nor  scalps,  nor  war,  nor  blood, 
nor  aught  connected  with  the  horrid  calling  of  that  camp. 
We  were  discussing  a  point  in  the  pacific  science  of  botany ; 
the  relationship  of  the  different  forms  of  the  cactus  family. 

I  had  studied  the  science,  and  I  felt  that  my  knowledge  of 
it  was  inferior  to  that  of  any  of  my  three  companions.  I  was 
struck  with  it  then,  and  more  when  I  reflected  on  it  after- 
wards ;  the  fact  of  such  a  conversation,  the  time,  the  place, 
and  the  men  who  carried  it  on. 

For  nearly  two  hours  we  sat  smoking  and  talking  on  like 
subjects. 

While  we  were  thus  engaged,  I  observed  upon  the  canvas 
the  shadow  of  a  man.  Looking  forth,  as  my  position  enabled 
me  without  rising,  I  recognized  in  the  light  that  streamed 
out  of  the  tent,  a  hunting-shirt  with  a  worked  pipe-holder 
hanging  over  the  breast. 

La  Luna  sat  near  her  brother,  sewing  parfleche  soles  upon 
a  pair  of  mocassins.  I  noticed  that  she  had  an  abstracted  air, 
and  at  short  intervals  glanced  out  from  the  opening  of  the  tent. 
While  we  were  engrossed  with  our  discussion  she  rose  silently, 
though  not  with  any  appearance  of  stealth,  and  went  out. 

After  a  while  she  returned.  I  could  read  the  love-light  in 
her  eye  as  she  resumed  her  occupation. 

El  Sol  and  his  sister  at  length  left  us ;  and  shortly  after, 
Seguin,  the  doctor,  and  I,  rolled  ourselves  in  our  serapes, 
and  lay  down  to  sleep. 


pr — =- 


~~1 


z^rr, 


Sioux  Indians,  in  Wolf-Skins   Hunting  Buffalo. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


THE    WAR-TRAIL. 


HE  band  was  mounted  by  earliest  dawn  ; 
and  as  the  notes  of  the  bugle  died 
away,  our  horses  plashed  through  the 
river,  crossing  to  the  other  side.  We 
soon  debouched  from  the  timbered 
bottom,  coming  out  upon  sandy  plains  that  stretched 
westward  to  the  Mimbres  mountains.  We  rode  over  these 
plains  in  a  southerly  direction,  climbing  long  ridges  of  sand 
that  traversed  them  from  east  to  west.  The  drift  lay  in  deep 
furrows  and  our  horses  sank  above  the  fetlocks  as  we  jour- 
neyed. We  were  crossing  the  western  section  of  the  "  Jor- 
nada." 

We  traveled  in  Indian  file.  Habit  has  formed  this  dis- 
position among  Indians  and  hunters  on  the  march.  The 
tangled  paths  of  the  forest,  and  the  narrow  defiles  of  the 
mountains,  admit  of  no  other.  Even  when  passing  a  plain, 
our  cavalcade  was  strung  out  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  The 
atajo  followed  in  charge  of  the  "  arrieros." 

For  the  first  day  of  our  march  we  kept  on  without  "  noon- 
ing." There  was  was  neither  grass  nor  water  on  the  route  : 
and  a  halt  under  the  hot  sun  would  not  have  refreshed  us. 

195 


196  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  a  dark  line  became  visible,  stretch- 
ing across  the  plain.  As  we  drew  nearer,  a  green  wall  rose 
before  us,  and  we  distinguished  the  groves  of  cottonwood. 
The  hunters  knew  it  to  be  the  timber  on  the  Paloma.  We 
were  soon  passing  under  the  shade  of  its  quivering  canopy, 
and  reaching  the  banks  of  a  clear  stream,  we  halted  for  the 
night. 

Our  camp  was  formed  without  either  tents  or  lodges. 
Those  used  on  the  Del  Norte'  had  been  left  behind  in  cache. 
An  expedition  like  ours  could  not  be  cumbered  with  camp 
baggage.  Each  man's  blanket  was  his  house,  his  bed,  and 
his  cloak. 

Fires  were  kindled,  and  ribs  roasted  ;  and  fatigued  with 
our  journey  (the  first  day's  ride  has  always  this  effect),  we 
were  soon  wrapped  in  our  blankets,  and  sleeping  soundly. 

We  were  summoned  next  morning  by  the  call  of  the  bugle 
sounding  "  reveille'."  The  band  partook  somewhat  of  a  mil- 
itary organization,  and  every  one  understood  the  signals  of 
light  cavalry. 

Our  breakfast  was  soon  cooked  and  eaten ;  our  horses 
were  drawn  from  their  pickets,  saddled,  and  mounted ;  and 
at  another  signal  we  moved  forward  on  the  route. 

The  incidents  of  our  first  journey  were  repeated,  with  but 
little  variety,  for  several  days  in  succession.  We  traveled 
through  a  desert  country,  here  and  there  covered  with  wild 
sage  and  mezquite. 

We  passed  on  our  route  clumps  of  cacti,  and  thickets  of 
creosote  bushes,  that  emitted  their  foul  odors  as  we  crushed 
through  them.  On  the  fourth  evening  we  camped  at  a  spring, 
the  "  Ojo  de  Vaca,"  lying  on  the  eastern  borders  of  the  Llanos. 

Over  the  western  section  of  this  great  prairie  passes  the 
Apache'  war-trail,  running  southward  into  Sonora.  Near  the 
trail,  and  overlooking  it,  a  high  mountain  rises  out  of  the 
plain.     It  is  the  Pifion. 


THE   WAR-TRAIL.  197 

It  was  our  design  to  reach  this  mountain,  and  cacher 
among  the  rocks,  near  a  well-known  spring,  until  our  enemies 
should  pass ;  but  to  effect  this  we  would  have  to  cross  the 
war-trail,  and  our  own  tracks  would  betray  us.  Here  was  a 
difficulty  which  had  not  occurred  to  Seguin.  There  was  no 
other  point  except  the  Pihon  from  which  we  could  certainly 
see  the  enemy  on  their  route,  and  be  ourselves  hidden.  This 
mountain,  then,  must  be  reached  ;  and  how  were  we  to  effect 
it  without  crossing  the  trail  ? 

After  our  arrival  at  Ojo  de  Vaca,  Seguin  drew  the  men 
together  to  deliberate  on  this  matter. 

"  Let  us  spread,"  said  a  hunter,  "  and  keep  wide  over  the 
paraira,  till  we've  got  clar  past  the  Apash  trail.  They  won't 
notice  a  single  track  hyar  and  thar,  I  reckin." 

"  Ay,  but  they  will  though,"  rejoined  another.  "  Do  ye 
think  an  Injun's  a-goin'  to  pass  a  shod  horse-track  'ithout 
follerin'  it  up  ?     No,  siree  !  " 

"  We  kin  muffle  the  hoofs,  as  far  as  that  goes,"  suggested 
the  first  speaker. 

"  Wagh  1  That  ud  only  make  it  worse.  I  tried  that  dodge 
once  afore,  an'  nearly  lost  my  har  for  it.  He's  a  blind  Injun 
kin  be  fooled  that  a-way.     'Twon't  do  no  how." 

"  They're  not  goin'  to  be  so  partickler  when  they're  on 
the  war-trail,  I  warrant  ye.  I  don't  see  why  it  shouldn't  do 
well  enough." 

Most  of  the  hunters  agreed  with  the  former  speaker. 
The  Indians  would  not  fail  to  notice  so  many  muffled  tracks, 
and  suspect  there  was  "  something  in  the  wind."  The  idea 
of  "  muffling  "  was  therefore  abandoned.     What  next  ? 

The  trapper  Rube,  who,  up  to  this  time,  had  said  nothing 
now  drew  the  attention  of  all  by  abruptly  exclaiming  "  Pish  !  " 

"  Well !  what  have  you  to  say,  old  hoss  ?  "  inquired  one  of 
the  hunters. 

"  Thet  yur  a  set  o'  cussed  fools,  one  and  all  o'  'ee.     I  kud 


I98  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

take  the  fall  0'  that  paraira  o'  hosses  acrosst  the  Pash  trail, 
'ithout  making  a  sign  that  any  Injun's  a-gwine  to  follow  par- 
ticularly an  Injun  on  the  war-beat  as  them  is  now." 

"  How  ?  "  asked  Seguin. 

"I'll  tell  yur  how,  cap,  ev  yur'll  tell  me  what  'ee  wants  to 
cross  the  trail  for." 

"  Why,  to  conceal  ourselves  in  the  Pinon  range  :  what  else  ? " 

"  An'  how  are  'ee  gwine  to  cacher  in  the  Peenyun  'ithout 
water  ?  " 

"  There  is  a  spring  on  the  side  of  it,  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountain." 

"  That's  true  as  Scripter.  I  knows  that ;  but  at  that  very 
spring  the  Injuns  '11  cool  their  lappers  as  they  go  down  south- 
'ard.  How  are  'ee  gwine  to  get  at  it  with  this  cavayard 
'ithout  makin'  sign  ?     This  child  don't  see  that  very  clur." 

"  You  are  right,  Rube.  We  cannot  touch  the  Pinon  spring 
without  leaving  our  marks  too  plainly ;  and  it  is  the  very 
place  where  the  war-party  may  make  a  halt." 

"  I  sees  no  confoundered  use  in  the  hul  on  us  crossin'  the 
paraira  now.  We  kan't  hunt  buffler  till  they've  passed,  any- 
ways. So  it's  this  child's  idee  that  a  dozen  o'  us  '11  be 
enough  to  cacher  in  the  Peenyun,  and  watch  for  the  niggurs 
a-goin'  south.  A  dozen  mout  do  it  safe  enough,  but  not  the 
hul  cavayard." 

"  And  would  you  have  the  rest  to  remain  here  ?  " 

"  Not  hyur.  Let  'em  go  north'  ard  from  hyur,  and  then 
strike  west  through  the  Musquite  hills.  Thur's  a  crick  runs 
thur,  about  twenty  mile  or  so  this  side  the  trail.  They  kin 
git  water  and  grass,  and  cacher  thus  till  we  sends  for  'em." 

"  But  why  not  remain  by  this  spring,  where  we  have  both 
in  plenty  ?  " 

"  Cap'n,  jest  because  some  o'  the  Injun  patry  may  take  a 
notion  in  thur  heads  to  kum  this  way  themselves.  I  reckin 
we  had  better  make  blind  tracks  before  leavin'  hyur," 


THE   WAR-TRAIL.  199 

The  force  of  Rube's  reasoning  was  apparent  to  all,  and  to 
none  more  than  Seguin  himself.  It  was  resolved  to  follow 
his  advice  at  once.  The  vidette  party  was  told  off  ;  and  the 
rest  of  the  band,  with  the  atajo,  after  blinding  the  tracks 
around  the  spring,  struck  off  in  a  northwesterly  direction. 

They  were  to  travel  on  to  the  Mezquite  hills,  that  lay  some 
ten  or  twelve  miles  to  the  northwest  of  the  spring.  There 
they  were  to  cacher  by  a  stream  well  known  to  several  of 
them,  and  wait  until  warned  to  join  us. 

The  vidette  party,  of  whom  I  was  one,  moved  westward 
across  the  prairie. 

Rube,  Garey,  El  Sol,  and  his  sister,  with  Sanchez,  a  ci-de- 
vant bull-fighter,  and  half  a  dozen  others,  composed  the  party. 
Seguin  himself  was  our  head  and  guide. 

Before  leaving  the  Ojo  de  Vaca,  we  had  stripped  the  shoes 
off  the  horses,  filling  the  nail-holes  with  clay,  so  that  their 
tracks  would  be  taken  for  those  of  wild  mustangs.  Such 
were  the  precautions  of  men  who  knew  that  their  lives  might 
be  the  forfeit  of  a  single  footprint. 

As  we  approached  the  point  where  the  war-tail  intersected 
the  prairie,  we  separated  and  deployed  in  distances  of  half  a 
mile  each.  In  this  manner  we  rode  forward  to  the  Pihon 
mountain,  where  we  came  together  again,  and  turned  north- 
ward along  the  foot  of  the  range. 

It  was  sundown  when  we  reached  the  spring,  having  ridden 
all  day  across  the  plain.  We  descried  it,  as  we  approached, 
close  in  to  the  mountain-foot,  and  marked  by  a  grove  of 
cotton-woods  and  willows.  We  did  not  take  our  horses  near 
the  water  ;  but,  having  reached  a  defile  in  the  mountain,  we 
rode  into  it,  and  cached  them  in  a  thicket  of  nut-pine.  In 
this  thicket  we  spent  the  night. 

With  the  first  light  of  morning  we  made  a  reconnaissance 
of  our  cache. 

In  front  of  us  was  a  low  ridge  covered  with  loose  rocks 


200 


THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 


and  straggling  trees  of  the  nut-pine.  This  ridge  separated 
the  defile  from  the  plain  ;  and  from  its  top,  screened  by  a 
thicket  of  the  pines,  we  commanded  a  view  of  the  water  as 
well  as  the  trail,  and  the  Llanos  stretching  away  to  the  north, 
south,  and  east.  It  was  just  the  sort  of  hiding-place  we  re- 
quired for  our  object. 


A  Cactus  Desert  of  Northern  Mexico. 

In  the  morning  it  became  necessary  to  descend  for  water. 
For  this  purpose  we  had  provided  ourselves  with  a  mule- 
bucket,  and  extra  xuages.  We  visited  the  spring,  and  filled 
our  vessels,  taking  care  to  leave  no  traces  of  our  footsteps 
in  the  mud. 

We  kept  constant  watch  during  the  first  day,  but  no  Indians 
appeared.     Deer  and  antelopes,  with  a  small  gang  of  buffa- 


THE  WAR-TRAIL.  201 

loes,  came  to  the  spring-branch  to  drink,  and  then  roamed 
off  again  over  the  green  meadows.  It  was  a  tempting  sight, 
for  we  could  easily  have  crept  within  shot,  but  we  dared  not 
touch  them.  We  knew  that  the  Indian  dogs  would  scent 
their  slaughter. 

In  the  evening  we  went  again  for  water,  making  the  jour- 
ney twice,  as  our  animals  began  to  suffer  from  thirst.  We 
adopted  the  same  precautions  as  before. 

Next  day  we  again  watched  the  horizon  to  the  north  with 
eager  eyes.  Seguin  had  a  small  pocket  glass,  and  we  could 
see  the  prairie  with  it  for  a  distance  of  nearly  thirty  miles ; 
but  as  yet  no  enemy  could  be  descried. 

The  third  day  passed  with  a  like  result ;  and  we  began  to 
fear  that  the  warriors  had  taken  some  other  trail. 

Another  circumstance  rendered  us  uneasy.  We  had  eaten 
nearly  the  whole  of  our  provisions,  and  were  now  chewing 
the  raw  nuts  of  the  Pinon.  We  dared  not  kindle  a  fire  to 
roast  them.  Indians  can  "  read  "  the  smoke  at  a  great 
distance. 

The  fourth  day  arrived  and  still  no  "  sign  "  on  the  horizon 
to  the  north.  Our  tasajo  was  all  eaten,  and  we  began  to 
hunger.  The  nuts  did  not  satisfy  us.  The  game  was  in 
plenty  at  the  spring,  and  mottling  the  grassy  plain.  One 
proposed  to  lie  among  the  willows,  and  shoot  an  antelope  or 
a  black-tailed  deer,  of  which  there  were  troops  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. 

"  We  dare  not,"  said  Seguin  ;  "  their  dogs  would  find  the 
blood.     It  might  betray  us." 

"  I  can  procure  one  without  letting  a  drop,"  rejoined  a 
Mexican  hunter. 

"  How  ?  "  inquired  several  in  a  breath. 

The  man  pointed  to  his  lasso. 

"  But  your  tracks  ;  you  would  make  deep  footmarks  in  the 
struggle  ?  v 


202  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  We  can  blind  them,  captain,"  rejoined  the  man. 

"  You  may  try,  then,"  assented  the  chief. 

The  Mexican  unfastened  the  lasso  from  his  saddle,  and, 
taking  a  companion,  proceeded  to  the  spring.  They  crept 
in  among  the  willows,  and  lay  in  wait.  We  watched  them 
from  the  ridge. 

They  had  not  remained  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
when  a  herd  of  antelopes  was  seen  approaching  from  the 
plain.  These  walked  directly  for  the  spring,  one  following 
the  other  in  Indian  file.  They  were  soon  close  in  to  the 
willows  where  the  hunters  had  concealed  themselves.  Here 
they  suddenly  halted,  throwing  up  their  heads  and  snuffing 
the  air.  They  had  scented  danger,  but  it  was  too  late  for 
the  foremost  to  turn  and  lope  off. 

"  Yonder  goes  the  lasso  !  "  cried  one. 

We  saw  the  noose  flying  in  the  air  and  settling  over  his 
head.  The  herd  suddenly  wheeled,  but  the  loop  was  around 
the  neck  of  their  leader  ;  and  after  three  or  four  skips,  he 
sprang  up  and,  falling  upon  his  back,  lay  motionless. 

The  hunter  came  out  from  the  willows,  and  taking  up  the 
animal,  now  choked  dead,  carried  him  towards  the  entrance 
of  the  defile.  His  companion  followed,  blinding  the  tracks 
of  both.  In  a  few  minutes  they  had  reached  us.  The  ante- 
lope was  skinned,  and  eaten  raw,  in  the  blood  1 


Our  horses  grow  thin  with  hunger  and  thirst.  We  fear  to 
go  too  often  to  the  water,  though  we  become  less  cautious  as 
the  hours  pass.  Two  more  antelopes  are  lassoed  by  the  ex- 
pert hunter. 

The  night  of  the  fourth  day  is  clear  moonlight.  The 
Indians  often  march  by  moonlight,  particularly  when  on  the 
war-trail.  We  keep  our  vidette  stationed  during  the  night 
as  in  the  day.     On  this  night  we  look  out  with  more  hopes 


THE   WAR-TRAIL.  203 

than  usual.     It  is  such  a  lovely  night !  a  full  moon  clear  and 
calm. 

We  are  not  disappointed.  Near  midnight  the  vidette 
awakes  us.  There  are  dark  forms  on  the  sky  away  to  the 
north.  It  may  be  buffaloes,  but  we  see  that  they  are  ap- 
proaching. 

We  stand,  one  and  all,  straining  our  eyes  through  the 
white  air,  and  away  over  the  silvery  sward.  There  are 
glancing  objects  :  arms  it  must  be.  "  Horses  !  horsemen  ! 
They  are  Indians  !  " 

"  Oh,  heavens  !  comrades  ;  we  are  mad  !  Our  horses  : 
they  may  neigh  !  " 

We  bound  after  our  leader  down  the  hill,  over  the  rocks,  and 
through  the  trees.  We  run  for  the  thicket  where  our  animals 
are  tied.  We  may  be  too  late,  for  horses  can  hear  each  other 
miles  off  ;  and  the  slightest  concussion  vibrates  afar  through 
the  elastic  atmosphere  of  these  high  plateaux.  We  reach  the 
caballada.  What  is  Seguin  doing  ?  He  has  torn  the  blanket 
from  under  his  saddle,  and  is  muffling  the  head  of  his  horse  I 

We  follow  his  example,  without  exchanging  a  word,  for  we 
know  this  is  the  only  plan  to  pursue. 

In  a  few  minutes  we  feel  secure  again,  and  return,  to  our 
watch-station  on  the  height. 

****** 

We  had  shaved  our  time  closely  ;  for,  on  reaching  the  hill- 
top, we  could  hear  the  exclamations  of  Indians,  the  "  thump, 
thump  "  of  hoofs  on  the  hard  plain,  and  an  occasional  neigh, 
as  their  horses  scented  the  water.  The  foremost  were  ad- 
vancing to  the  spring  ;  and  we  could  see  the  long  line  of 
mounted  men  stretching  in  their  deploying  to  the  far  horizon. 

Closer  they  came,  and  we  could  distinguish  the  pennons 
and  glittering  points  of  their  spears.  We  could  see  their 
half -naked  bodies  gleaming  in  the  clear  moonlight. 

In  a  short  time  the  foremost  of  them  had  ridden  up  to  the 


204  THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 

bushes,  halting  as  they  came,  and  giving  their  animals  to 
drink.  Then  one  by  one  they  wheeled  out  of  the  water,  and 
trotting  a  short  distance  over  the  prairie,  flung  themselves  to 
the  ground,  and  commenced  unharnessing  their  horses. 

It  was  evidently  their  intention  to  camp  for  the  night. 

For  nearly  an  hour  they  came  filing  forward,  until  two  thou- 
sand warriors,  with  their  horses,  dotted  the  plain  below  us. 

We  stood  observing  their  movements.  We  had  no  fear  of 
being  seen  ourselves.  We  were  lying  with  our  bodies  behind 
the  rocks,  and  our  faces  partially  screened  by  the  foliage  of 
the  pihon  trees.  We  could  see  and  hear  with  distinctness  all 
that  was  passing,  for  the  savages  were  not  over  three  hun- 
dred yards  from  our  position. 

They  proceed  to  picket  their  horses  in  a  wide  circle,  far 
out  on  the  plain.  There  the  grama  grass  is  longer  and  more 
luxuriant  than  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  spring. 
They  strip  the  animals,  and  bring  away  their  horse-furniture 
consisting  of  hair  bridles,  buffalo  robes,  and  skins  of  the 
grizzly  bear.  Few  have  saddles.  Indians  do  not  generally 
use  them  on  a  war  expedition. 

Each  man  strikes  his  spear  into  the  ground,  and  rests 
against  it  his  shield,  bow  and  quiver.  He  places  his  robe  or 
skin  beside  it.     That  is  his  tent  and  bed. 

The  spears  are  soon  aligned  upon  the  prairie,  forming  a 
front  of  several  hundred  yards ;  and  thus  they  have  pitched 
their  camp  with  a  quickness  and  regularity  far  outstripping 
the  Chasseurs  of  Vincennes. 

They  are  encamped  in  two  parties.  There  are  two  bands, 
the  Apache  and  Navajo.  The  latter  is  much  the  smaller,  and 
rests  farther  off  from  our  position. 

We  hear  them  cutting  and  chopping  with  their  tomahawks 
among  the  thickets  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  We  can  see 
them  carrying  fagots  out  upon  the  plain,  piling  them  together, 
and  setting  them  on  fire. 


THE   WAR-TRAIL.  205 

Many  fires  are  soon  blazing  brightly.  The  savages  squat 
around  them,  cooking  their  suppers.  We  can  see  the  paint 
glittering  on  their  faces  and  naked  breasts.  They  are  of 
many  hues.  Some  are  red,  as  though  they  were  smeared 
with  blood.  Some  appear  of  a  jetty  blackness.  Some  black 
on  one  side  of  the  face,  and  red  or  white  on  the  other.  Some 
are  mottled  like  hounds,  and  some  striped  and  chequered. 
Their  cheeks  and  breasts  are  tattooed  with  the  forms  of  ani- 
mals :  wolves,  panthers,  bears,  buffaloes,  and  other  hideous 
devices,  plainly  discernible  under  the  blaze  of  the  pine-wood 
fires.  Some  have  a  red  hand  painted  on  their  bosoms,  and 
not  a  few  exhibit  as  their  device  the  death's  head  and  cross- 
bones  ! 

All  these  are  their  "  coats  "  of  arms,  symbolical  of  the 
"  medicine"  of  the  wearer  ;  adopted,  no  doubt,  from  like  silly 
fancies  to  those  which  put  the  crest  upon  the  carriage,  on 
the  lacquey's  button,  or  the  brass  seal-stamp  of  the  merchant's 
clerk. 

There  is  vanity  in  the  wilderness.  In  savage  as  in  civi- 
lized life  there  is  a  "  snobdom." 

What  do  we  see  ?  Bright  helmets,  brazen  and  steel,  with 
nodding  plumes  of  the  ostrich !  These  upon  savages ! 
Whence  came  these  ? 

From  the  cuirassiers  of  Chihuahua.  Poor  devils  1  They 
were  roughly  handled  upon  one  occasion  by  these  savage 
lancers. 

We  see  the  red  meat  sputtering  over  the  fires  upon  spits 
of  willow  rods.  We  see  the  Indians  fling  the  pinon  nuts  into 
the  cinders,  and  then  draw  them  forth  again,  parched  and 
smoking.  We  see  them  light  their  claystone  pipes,  and  send 
forth  clouds  of  blue  vapor.  We  see  them  gesticulate  as 
they  relate  their  red  adventures  to  one  another.  We  hear 
them  shout,  and  chatter,  and  laugh  like  mountebanks.  How 
unlike  the  forest  Indian  1 


206 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


For  two  hours  we  watch  their  movements,  and  listen  to 
their  voices.  Then  the  horseguard  is  detailed,  and  marches 
off  to  the  caballada  ;  and  the  Indians,  one  after  another, 
spread  their  skins,  roll  themselves  in  their  blankets,  and  sleep. 

The  fires  cease  to  blaze  ;  but  by  the  moonlight  we  can 
distinguish  the  prostrate  bodies  of  the  savages.  White  ob- 
jects are  moving  among  them.  They  are  dogs  prowling 
after  the  dibris  of  their  supper.  These  run  from  point  to 
point,  snarling  at  one  another,  and  barking  at  the  coyotes 
that  sneak  around  the  skirts  of  the  camp. 

Out  upon  the  prairie  the  horses  are  still  awake  and  busy. 
We  can  hear  them  stamping  their  hoofs  and  cropping  the 
rich  pasture.  Erect  forms  are  seen  standing  at  intervals 
along  the  line.     These  are  the  guards  of  the  caballada. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THREE    DAYS    IN    THE   TRAP. 

UR  attention  was  now   turned 
to  our  own  situation.     Dangers 
and  difficulties    suddenly   pre- 
sented themselves  to  our  minds. 
"  What  if   they   should   stay    here    to 
hunt  !  " 

The  thought  seemed,  to  occur  to  all 
of  us  at  the  same  instant,  and  we  faced  each  other  with 
looks  of  apprehension  and  dismay. 

"  It  is  not  improbable,"  said  Seguin,  in  a  low  and  emphatic 
voice.  "  It  is  plain  they  have  no  supply  of  meat,  and  how 
are  they  to  pass  to  the  south  without  it  ?  They  must  hunt 
here  or  elsewhere.     Why  not  here  ?  " 

"  If  so,  we're  in  a  nice  trap  !  "  interrupted  a  hunter,  point- 
ing first  to  the  embouchure  of  the  defile  and  then  to  the 
mountain.  "  How  are  we  to  get  out  ?  I'd  like  to  know 
that." 

Our  eyes  followed  the  direction  indicated  by  the  speaker. 
In  front  of  the  ravine  in  which  we  were   extended  the  line 

207 


208  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

of  the  Indian  camp,  not  a  hundred  yards  distant  from  the 
rocks  that  lay  around  its  entrance.  There  was  an  Indian 
sentinel  still  nearer  :  but  it  would  be  impossible  to  pass  out, 
even  were  he  asleep,  without  encountering  the  dogs  that 
prowled  in  numbers  around  the  camp. 

Behind  us,  the  mountain  rose  vertically  like  a  wall.  It 
was  plainly  impassable.     We  were  fairly  "  in  the  trap." 

"  Carrai !  "  exclaimed  one  of  the  men,  "  we  will  die  of 
hunger  and  thirst  if  they  stay  to  hunt !  " 

"  We  may  die  sooner,"  rejoined  another,  "  if  they  take  a 
notion  in  their  heads  to  wander  up  the  gully." 

This  was  not  improbable,  though  it  was  but  little  likely. 
The  ravine  was  a  sort  of  ad  de  sac,  that  entered  the  moun- 
tain in  a  slanting  direction,  and  ended  at  the  bottom  of  the 
cliff.  There  was  no  object  to  attract  our  enemies  into  it, 
unless  indeed  they  might  come  up  in  search  of  pinon  nuts. 
Some  of  their  dogs,  too,  might  wander  up,  hunting  for  food, 
or  attracted  by  the  scent  of  our  horses.  These  were  prob- 
abilities, and  we  trembled  as  each  of  them  was  suggested. 

"  If  they  do  not  find  us,"  said  Seguin,  encouragingly,  "  we 
may  live  for  a  day  or  two  on  the  pinons.  When  these  fail 
us,  one  of  our  horses  must  be  killed.  How  much  water 
have  we  ?  " 

"  Thank  our  luck,  captain,  the  gourds  are  nearly  full." 

"  But  our  poor  animals  must  suffer." 

"  There  is  no  danger  of  thirst,"  said  El  Sol,  looking  down- 
ward, "  while  these  last ;  "  and  he  struck  with  his  foot  a 
large  round  mass  that  grew  among  the  rocks.  It  was  the 
spheroidal  cactus.  "  See !  "  continued  he,  "  there  are 
hundreds  of  them  !  " 

All  present  knew  the  meaning  of  this,  and  regarded  the 
cacti  with  a  murmur  of  satisfaction. 

Comrades  !  "  said  Seguin,  "  it  is  of  no  use  to  weary  our- 
selves.    Let   those  sleep  who  can.     One  can   keep  watch 


THREE    DAYS    IN   THE   TRAP.  209 

jonder  while  another  stays  up  here.  Go,  Sanchez  !  "  and 
Ue  chief  pointed  down  the  ravine  to  a  spot  that  commanded 
a  new  of  its  mouth. 

The  sentinel  walked  off,  and  took  his  stand  in  silence. 
The  rest  of  us  descended,  and  after  looking  to  the  muffling 
of  oar  horses,  returned  to  the  station  of  the  vidette  upon 
the  rill.  Here  we  rolled  ourselves  in  our  blankets,  and  lying 
down  among  the  rocks,  slept  out  the  night. 

We  were  awake  before  dawn,  and  peering  through  the 
leaves  with  feelings  of  keen  solicitude. 

There  is  no  movement  in  the  Indian  camp.  It  is  a  bad 
indication.  Had  they  intended  to  travel  on  they  would  have 
been  stirring  before  this.  They  are  always  on  the  route 
before  daybreak.  These  "  signs  "  strengthen  our  feelings  of 
apprehension. 

The  gray  light  begins  to  spread  over  the  prairie.  There 
is  a  white  band  along  the  eastern  sky.  There  are  noises  in 
the  camp.  There  are  voices.  Dark  forms  move  about 
among  the  upright  spears.  Tall  savages  stride  over  the 
plain.  Their  robes  of  skins  are  wrapped  around  their  shoul- 
ders to  protect  them  from  the  raw  air  of  the  morning.  They 
carry  fagots.     They  are  rekindling  the  fires  ! 

Our  men  talk  in  whispers,  as  we  lie  straining  our  eyes  to 
catch  every  movement. 

"  It's  plain  they  intend  to  make  a  stay  of  it." 
"  Ay  !  we're  in  for  it,  that's   sartin  !     Wagh  !     I   wonder 
how  long  thar  a-goin'  to  squat  hyar,  anyhow." 
"  Three  days  at  the  least :  may  be  four  or  five." 
"  Great  gollies  !  we'll  be  froze  in  half  the  time." 
"  What  would  they  be  doin'    here  so  long  ?     I  warrant  ye 
they'll  clar  out  as  soon  as  they  can." 

"  So  they  will ;  but  how  can  they  in  less  time  ?  " 
"  They  can  get  all  the  meat  they  want  in  a  day.     See  I 
14 


210  THE   SCALP- HUNTERS. 

yonder's  buffalo  a  plenty :  look !  away  yonder  I  "  and  the 
speaker  points  to  several  black  objects  outlined  against  the 
brightening  sky.     It  is  a  herd  of  buffaloes. 

"  That's  true  enough.  In  half  a  day  I  warrant  they  Hn 
get  all  the  meat  they  want ;  but  how  are  they  a-goin  to  jirk  it 
in  less  than  three?     That's  what  I  want  to  know." 

"  £s  verdad!"  says  one  of  the  Mexicans,  a  cibo'ero  ; 
"  tres  dias  al  menos  !  "  (it  is  true — three  days,  at  the  least !) 

"  Ay,  hombre  !  an'  with  a  smart  chance  o'  sunshine  at 
that,  I  guess." 

This  conversation  is  carried  on  by  two  or  three  of  the 
men  in  a  low  tone,  but  loud  enough  for  the  rest  of  us  to 
overhear  it. 

It  reveals  a  new  phase  of  our  dilemma  on  which  we  have 
not  before  reflected.  Should  the  Indians  stay  to  "  jerk  "  their 
meat,  we  will  be  in  extreme  danger  from  thirst,  as  well  as 
of  being  discovered  in  our  cache. 

We  know  that  the  process  of  jerking  buffalo  beef  takes 
three  days,  and  that  with  a  hot  sun,  as  the  hunter  has  inti- 
mated. This,  with  the  first  day  required  for  hunting,  will 
keep  us  four  days  in  the  ravine ! 

The  prospect  is  appalling.  We  feel  that  death  or  the 
extreme  torture  of  thirst  is  before  us.  We  have  no  fear  of 
hunger.  Our  horses  are  in  the  grove,  and  our  knives  in 
our  belts.  We  can  live  for  weeks  upon  them  ;  but  will  the 
cacti  assuage  the  thirst  of  men  and  horses  for  a  period 
of  three  or  four  days  ?  This  is  a  question  no  one  can 
answer.  It  has  often  relieved  the  hunter  for  a  short  period, 
enabling  him  to  crawl  on  to  the  water ;  but  for  days  ! 

The  trial  will  soon  commence.  The  day  has  fairly  broken. 
The  Indians  spring  to  their  feet.  About  one-half  of  them 
draw  the  pickets  of  their  horses,  and  lead  them  to  the  water. 
They  adjust  their  bridles,  pluck  up  their  spears,  snatch  their 
bows,  shoulder  their  quivers  and  leap  on  horseback. 


THREE   DAYS   IN   THE   TRAP.  211 

After  a  short  consultation  they  gallop  off  to  the  east- 
ward. In  half  an  hour's  time,  we  can  see  them  "  run- 
ning "  the  buffalo  far  out  upon  the  prairie :  piercing  them 
with  their  arrows,  and  impaling  them  on  their  long 
lances. 

Those  who  have  remained  behind  lead  their  horses  down 
to  the  spring-branch,  and  back  again  to  the  grass.  Now 
they  chop  down  young  trees,  and  carry  fagots  to  the  fires. 
See ;  they  are  driving  long  stakes  into  the  ground,  and 
stretching  ropes  from  one  to  the  other.  For  what  purpose  ? 
We  know  too  well. 

"  Ha  !  look  yonder  !  "  mutters  one  of  the  hunters,  as  this 
is  first  noticed ;  "  yonder  goes  the  jerking-line  !  Now  we're 
caged  in  airnest,  I  reckin." 

"  Por  todos  santos  es  verdad  /" 

"  Carrambo  !  carajo  !  chingaro  !  "  growls  the  cibolero, 
who  well  knows  the  meaning  of  those  stakes  and  lines. 

We  watch  with  a  fearful  interest  the  movements  of  the 
savages. 

We  have  now  no  longer  any  doubt  of  their  intention  to 
remain  for  several  days. 

The  stakes  are  soon  erected,  running  for  a  hundred  yards 
or  more  along  the  front  of  the  encampment.  The  savages 
await  the  return  of  their  hunters.  Some  mount  and  scour 
off  toward  the  scene  of  the  buffalo  battue,  still  going  on,  far 
out  upon  the  plain. 

We  peer  through  the  leaves  with  great  caution,  for  the 
day  is  bright,  and  the  eyes  of  our  enemies  are  quick,  and 
scan  every  object.  We  speak  only  in  whispers,  though  our 
voices  could  not  be  heard  if  we  conversed  a  little  louder,  but 
fear  makes  us  fancy  that  they  might.  We  are  all  concealed 
except  our  eyes.  These  glance  through  small  loopholes  in 
the  foliage. 

Hie  Indian  hunters  have  been  gone  about  two  hours. 


212  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

We  now  see  them  returning  over  the  prairie  in  straggling 
parties. 

They  ride  slowly  back.  Each  brings  his  load  before  him 
on  the  withers  of  his  horse.  They  have  large  masses  of  red 
flesh,  freshly  skinned  and  smoking.  Some  carry  the  sides 
and  quarters  ;  others  the  hump-ribs,  the  tongue,  the  heart, 
and  liver — thtpetits  morceaux — wrapped  up  in  the  skins  of 
the  slaughtered  animals. 

They  arrive  in  camp,  and  fling  their  loads  to  the  ground. 

Now  begins  a  scene  of  noise  and  confusion.  The  savages 
run  to  and  fro,  whooping,  chattering,  laughing,  and  dancing. 
They  draw  their  long  scalping-knives,  and  hew  off  broad 
steaks.  They  spit  them  over  the  blazing  fires.  They  cut 
out  the  hump-ribs.  They  tear  off  the  white  fat,  and  stuff 
the  boudins.  They  split  the  brown  liver,  eating  it  raw  1 
They  break  the  shanks  with  their  tomahawks,  and  delve  out 
the  savory  marrow  ;  and,  through  all  these  operations,  they 
whoop,  and  chatter,  and  laugh,  and  dance  over  the  ground 
like  so  many  madmen. 

This  scene  lasts  for  more  than  an  hour. 

Fresh  parties  of  hunters  mount  and  ride  off.  Those  who 
remain  cut  the  meat  into  long  thin  strips,  and  hang  it  over 
the  lines  already  prepared  for  this  purpose.  It  is  thus  left 
to  be  baked  by  the  sun  into  "  tasajo." 

We  know  part  of  what  is  before  us.  It  is  a  fearful 
prospect ;  but  men  like  those  who  compose  the  band 
of  Seguin  do  not  despond  while  the  shadow  of  a  hope  re- 
mains. It  is  a  barren  spot  indeed,  where  they  cannot  find 
resources. 

"  We  needn't  holler  till  we're  hurt,"  says  one  of  the 
hunters. 

"  If  yer  call  an  empty  belly  a  hurt,"  rejoins  another,  "  I've 
got  it  already.  I  kud  jest  eat  a  raw  jackass  'ithout  skinnin' 
him." 


THREE    DAYS    IN    THE   TRAP.  213 

"  Come,  fellers  !  "  cries  a  third,  "  let's  gramble  for  a  meal 
o'  these  peenyuns." 

Following  this  suggestion,  we  commence  searching  for  the 
nuts  of  the  pine.  We  find  to  our  dismay  that  there  is  but  a 
limited  supply  of  this  precious  fruit :  not  enough  either  on 
the  trees  or  the  ground  to  sustain  us  for  two  days. 

"  By  gosh !  "  exclaims  one,  "  we'll  have  to  draw  for  our 
critters." 

"  Well,  and  if  we  have  to — time  enough  yet  a  bit,  I  guess. 
We'll  bite  our  claws  a  while  first." 

The  water  is  distributed  in  a  small  cup.  There  is  still  a 
little  left  in  the  xuages  ;  but  our  poor  horses  suffer. 

"  Let  us  look  to  them,"  says  Seguin  :  and,  drawing  his 
knife,  he  commences  skinning  one  of  the  cacti.  We  follow 
his  example. 

We  carefully  pare  off  the  volutes  and  spikelets.  A  cool 
gummy  liquid  exudes  from  the  opened  vessels.  We  break 
the  short  stems,  and  lifting  the  green,  globe-like  masses, 
carry  them  to  the  thicket,  and  place  them  before  our  animals. 
These  seize  the  succulent  plants  greedily,  crunch  them  be- 
tween their  teeth,  and  swallow  both  sap  and  fibers.  It  is 
food  and  drink  to  them.  Thank  heaven  !  we  may  yet  save 
them  ! 

This  act  is  repeated  several  times,  until  they  have  had 
enough. 

We  keep  two  videttes  constantly  on  the  look-out :  one 
upon  the  hill,  the  other  commanding  the  mouth  of  the  defile. 
The  rest  of  us  go  through  the  ravine,  along  the  sides  of  the 
ridge,  in  search  of  the  cones  of  the  pihon. 

Thus  our  first  day  is  spent. 

The  Indian  hunters  keep  coming  into  their  camp  until  a 
late  hour,  bringing  with  them  their  burdens  of  buffalo  flesh. 
Fires  blaze  over  the  ground,  and  the  savages  sit  around 
them,  cooking  and  eating,  nearly  all  the  night. 


214  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

On  the  following  day  they  do  not  rouse  themselves  until 
a  late  hour.  It  is  a  day  of  lassitude  and  idleness  ;  for  the 
meat  is  hanging  over  the  strings,  and  they  can  only  wait 
upon  it.  They  lounge  around  the  camp,  mending  their 
bridles  and  lassos,  or  looking  to  their  weapons  ;  they  lead 
their  horses  to  the  water,  and  then  picket  them  on  fresh 
ground  ;  they  cut  large  pieces  of  meat,  and  broil  them  over 
the  fires.  Hundreds  of  them  are  at  all  times  engaged  in  this 
last  occupation.     They  seem  to  eat  continually. 

Their  dogs  are  busy,  too,  growling  over  the  knife-stripped 
bones.  They  are  not  likely  to  leave  their  feast ;  they  will 
not  stray  up  the  ravine  while  it  lasts.  In  this  thought  we 
find  consolation. 

The  sun  is  hot  all  the  second  day,  and  scorches  us  in  the 
dry  defile.  It  adds  to  our  thirst ;  but  we  do  not  regret  this 
so  much,  knowing  it  will  hasten  the  departure  of  the  savages. 
Towards  evening,  the  tasajo  begins  to  look  brown  and 
shriveled.    Another  such  day  and  it  will  be  ready  for  packing. 

Our  water  is  out,  and  we  chew  the  succulent  slices  of  the 
cactus.     These  relieve  our  thirst  without  quenching  it. 

Our  appetite  of  hunger  is  growing  stronger.  We  have 
eaten  all  the  pinons,  and  nothmg  remains  but  to  slaughter 
one  of  our  horses. 

"  Let  us  hold  out  till  to-morrow,"  suggests  one.  "Give 
the  poor  brutes  a  chance.  Who  knows  but  what  they  may 
flit  in  the  morning  ?  " 

This  proposition  in  voted  in  the  affirmative.  No  hunter 
cares  to  risk  losing  his  horse,  especially  when  out  upon  the 
prairies. 

Gnawed  by  hunger,  we  lie  waiting  for  the  third  day. 

The  morning  breaks  at  last,  and  we  crawl  forward  as 
usual,  to  watch  the  movements  of  the  camp.  The  savages 
sleep  late,  as  on  yesterday ;  but  they  arouse  themselves  at 
length,  and  after  watering  their  animals,  commence  cooking. 


THREE   DAYS   IN   THE   TRAP.  215 

We  see  the  crimson  steaks  and  the  juicy  ribs  smoking  over 
the  fires,  and  the  savory  odors  are  wafted  to  us  on  the 
breeze.  Our  appetites  are  whetted  to  a  painful  keenness. 
We  can  endure  no  longer.     A  horse  must  die  I 

Whose  ?     Mountain  law  will  soon    decide. 

Eleven  white  pebbles  and  a  black  one  are  thrown  into  the 
water-bucket,  and  one  by  one  we  are  blinded  and  led  forward. 

I  tremble  as  I  place  my  hand  in  the  vessel.  It  is  like 
throwing  the  die  for  my  own  life. 

"  Thank  heaven  !  my  Moro  is  safe  !  " 

One  of  the  Mexicans  has  drawn  the  black. 

"  Thar's  luck  in  that !  "  exclaims  a  hunter.  "  Good  fat 
mustang  better  than  poor  bull  any  day !  " 

The  devoted  horse  is  in  fact  a  well-conditioned  animal ; 
and  placing  our  videttes  again,  we  proceed  to  the  thicket  to 
slaughter  him. 

We  set  about  it  with  great  caution.  We  tie  him  to  a  tree, 
and  hopple  his  fore  and  hind  feet,  lest  he  may  struggle. 
We  purpose  bleeding  him  to  death. 

The  cibolero  has  unsheathed  his  long  knife  while  a  man 
stands  by,  holding  the  bucket  to  catch  the  precious  fluid : 
the  blood.  Some  have  cups  in  their  hands,  ready  to  drink 
it  as  it  flows  I 

We  are  startled  by  an  unusual  sound.  We  look  through 
the  leaves.  A  large  gray  animal  is  standing  by  the  edge  of 
the  thicket,  gazing  in  at  us.  It  is  wolfish-looking.  Is  it  a 
wolf  ?     No.     It  is  an  Indian  dog  I 

The  knife  is  stayed  ;  each  man  draws  his  own.  We  ap- 
proach the  animal,  and  endeavor  to  coax  it  nearer.  But  no  ; 
it  suspects  our  intentions,  utters  a  low  growl,  and  runs  away 
down  the  defile. 

We  follow  it  with  our  eyes.  The  owner  of  the  doomed 
horse  is  the  vidette.  The  dog  must  pass  him  to  get  out, 
and  he  stands  with  his  long  lance  ready  to  receive  it. 


2l6  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

The  animal  sees  himself  intercepted,  turns  and  runs  back, 
and  again  turning,  makes  a  desperate  rush  to  pass  the 
vidette.  As  he  nears  the  latter,  he  utters  a  loud  howl.  The 
next  moment  he  is  impaled  upon  the  lance  ! 

Several  of  us  rush  up  the  hill  to  ascertain  if  the  howling 
has  attracted  the  attention  of  the  savages.  There  is  no  un- 
usual movement  among  them  ;  they  have  not  heard  it. 

The  dog  is  divided  and  devoured  before  his  quivering  flesh 
has  time  to  grow  cold !     The  horse  is  reprieved. 

Again  we  feed  our  animals  on  the  cooling  cactus.  This 
occupies  us  for  some  time.  When  we  return  to  the  hill  a  glad 
sight  is  before  us.  We  see  the  warriors  seated  around  their 
fires,  renewing  the  paint  upon  their  bodies.  We  know  the 
meaning  of  this. 

The  tasajo  is  nearly  black.  Thanks  to  the  hot  sun,  it 
will  soon  be  ready  for  packing  1 

Some  of  the  Indians  are  engaged  in  poisoning  the  points 
of  their  arrows.  All  these  "  signs  "  inspire  us  with  fresh 
courage.  They  will  soon  march ;  if  not  no-night,  by  day- 
break on  the  morrow. 

We  lie  congratulating  ourselves,  and  watching  every  move- 
ment of  their  camp.  Our  hopes  continue  rising  as  the  day 
falls 

Ha  i  there  is  an  unusual  stir.  Some  order  has  been 
issued.  "  Foi/d/"  "  Mira !  mira/"  "See!"  "Look, 
look !  "  are  the  half-whispered  ejaculations  that  break  from 
the  hunters  as  this  is  observed. 

"  By  the  livin'  catamount,  thar  a-goin'  to  mizzle  I  " 

We  see  the  savages  pull  down  the  tasajo  and  tie  it  in 
bunches.  Then  every  man  runs  out  for  his  horse ;  the 
pickets  are  drawn  ;  the  animals  are  led  in  and  watered ;  they 
are  bridled ;  the  robes  are  thrown  over  them  and  girthed. 
The  warriors  pluck  up  their  lances,  sling  their  quivers,  seize 
their  shields   and  bows,  and  leap  lightly  upon  horseback. 


THREE    DAYS   IN    THE   TRAP."  217 

The  next  moment  they  form  with  the  rapidity  of  thought, 
and  wheeling  in  their  tracks,  ride  off  in  single  file,  heading 
to  the  southward. 

The  larger  band  has  passed.  The  smaller,  the  Navajoes, 
follow  in  the  same  trail.  No !  The  latter  has  suddenly 
filed  to  the  left,  and  is  crossing  the  prairie  towards  the  east ; 
towards  the  spring  of  the  Ojo  de  Vaca. 


Navahoe  Saddle-Girth,  Woven  with  Various  Colors  of  Horse  Hair. 

CHAPTER    XXVII. 

THE    DIGGERS. 

UR  first  impulse  was  to  rush  down 
the  ravine,  satisfy  our  thirst  at 
the  spring,  and  our  hunger  on 
the  half-polished  bones  that  were 
strewed  over  the  prairie.  Pru- 
dence,   however,  restrained  us. 

"  Wait  till  they're  clar  gone,"  said  Garey.  "  They'll  be 
out  o'  sight  in  three  skips  o'  a  goat." 

"  Yes  !  stay  where  we  are  a  bit,"  added  another  ;  "  some 
of  them  may  ride  back ;  something  may  be  forgotten." 

This  was  not  improbable ;  and  in  spite  of  the  promptings 
of  our  appetites,  we  resolved  to  remain  a  while  longer  in  the 
defile. 

We  descended  straightway  into  the  thicket  to  make  prep- 
arations for  moving ;  to  saddle  our  horses  and  take  off 
their  mufflings,  which  by  this  time  had  nearly  blinded  them. 
Poor  brutes  1  they  seemed  to  know  that  relief  was  at  hand. 

While  we  were  engaged  in  these  operations,  our  vidette 
was   kept   at  the  top   of  the   hill  to  watch  both  bands, 

318 


THE   DIGGERS.  219 

and  warn  us  when  their  heads  should  sink  to  the  prairie 
level. 

"  I  wonder  why  the  Navajoes  have  gone  by  the  Ojo  de 
Vaca,"  remarked  our  chief,  with  an  apparent  anxiety  in  his 
manner.     "  It  is  well  our  comrades  did  not  remain  there." 

"  They'll  be  tired  o'  waitin'  on  us,  whar  they  are,"  rejoined 
Garey,  "unless  black-tails  is  plentier  among  them  Musquites 
than  I  think  for." 

"  Vaya/"  exclaimed  Sanchez;  "they  may  thank  the 
Santissima  they  were  not  in  our  company !  I'm  spent  to  a 
skeleton.     Mira  I  carrai  1 '" 

Our  horses  were  at  length  bridled  and  saddled,  and  our 
lassoes  coiled  up.  Still  the  vidette  had  not  warned  us.  We 
grew  every  moment  more  impatient. 

"  Come  !  "  cried  one  ;  "  hang  it !  they're  far  enough  now. 
They're  not  a-goin'  to  be  gapin'  back  all  the  way.  They're 
looking  ahead,  I'm  bound.  Golly  !  thar's  fine  shines  afore 
them." 

We  could  resist  no  longer.  We  called  out  to  the  vidette. 
He  could  just  see  the  heads  of  the  hindmost. 

"  That  will  do,"  cried  Seguin  ;  "  come,  take  your  horses  1  " 

The  men  obeyed  with  alacrity,  and  we  all  moved  down  the 
ravine,  leading  our  animals. 

We  pressed  forward  to  the  opening.  A  young  man,  the 
pueblo  servant  of  Seguin,  was  ahead  of  the  rest.  He  was 
impatient  to  reach  the  water.  He  had  gained  the  mouth  of 
the  defile,  when  we  saw  him  fall  back  with  frightened  looks, 
dragging  at  his  horse,  and  exclaiming — 

"  Mi  amo  !  mi  amo  !  to  davia  son  I 
(Master,  master  !  they  are  here  yet !) 

"  Who  ?  "  inquired  Seguin,  running  forward  in  haste. 

"  The  Indians,  master ;  the  Indians  !  " 

"  You  are  mad  !     Where  did  you  see  them  ?  " 

"  In  the  camp,  master.     Look  yonder !  " 


220  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

I  pressed  forward  with  Seguin  to  the  rocks  that  lay  along 
the  entrance  of  the  defile.  We  looked  cautiously  over.  A 
singular  sight  met  our  eyes. 

The  camp-ground  was  lying  as  the  Indians  had  left  it. 
The  stakes  were  still  standing ;  the  shaggy  hides  of  the 
buffaloes,  and  piles  of  their  bones,  were  strewn  upon  the 
plain ;  hundreds  of  coyotes  were  loping  back  and  forward, 
snarling  at  one  another,  or  pursuing  one  of  their  number 
which  had  picked  up  a  nicer  morsel  than  his  companions. 
The  fires  were  still  smoldering,  and  the  wolves  galloped 
through  the  ashes,  raising  them  in  yellow  clouds. 

But  there  was  a  sight  stranger  than  all  this ;  a  startling 
sight  to  me.  Five  or  six  forms  ;  almost  human,  were  moving 
about  among  the  fires,  collecting  the  debris  of  skins  and 
bones,  and  quarreling  with  the  wolves  that  barked  round 
them  in  troops.  Five  or  six  others,  similar  forms,  were 
seated  around  a  pile  of  burning  wood,  silently  gnawing  at 

half-roasted   ribs.     Can   they   be yes,  they  are   human 

beings ! 

I  was  for  a  moment  awestruck  as  I  gazed  at  the  shriveled 
and  dwarfish  bodies,  the  long  ape-like  arms,  and  huge  dis- 
proportioned  heads,  from  which  fell  their  hair  in  snaky 
tangles,  black  and  matted. 

But  one  or  two  appeared  to  have  any  article  of  dress,  and 
that  was  a  ragged  breech-clout.  The  others  were  naked  as 
the  wild  beasts  around  them  :  naked  from  head  to  foot ! 

It  was  a  horrid  sight  to  look  upon  these  fiend- like  dwarfs 
squatted  around  the  fires,  holding  up  half-naked  bones  in 
their  long  wrinkled  arms,  and  tearing  off  the  flesh  with  their 
glistening  teeth.  It  was  a  horrid  sight,  indeed  ;  and  it  was 
some  moments  before  I  could  recover  sufficiently  from  my 
amazement  to  inquire  who  or  what  they  were.  I  did  so  at 
length. 

"  Los  Yamparicos,"  answered  the  cibolero. 


THE    DIGGERS.  221 

"  Who  ?  "  I  asked  again. 

"Los  Indios  Yamparicos,  sefior." 

"  The  Diggers,  the  Diggers,"  said  a  hunter,  thinking  that 
would  better  explain  the  strange  apparitions. 

"  Yes,  they  are  Digger  Indians,"  added  Seguin.  "  Come 
on ;  we  have  nothing  to  fear  from  them." 

"  But  we  have  somethin'  to  git  from  them,"  rejoined  one 
of  the  hunters,  with  a  significant  look.  "  Digger  plew  good 
as  any  other ;  worth  jest  as  much  as  '  Pash  chief.'  " 

"  No  one  must  fire,"  said  Seguin,  in  a  firm  tone.  "  It  is 
too  soon  yet ;  look  yonder  1  "  and  he  pointed  over  the  plain, 
where  two  or  three  glancing  objects,  the  helmets  of  the  re- 
treating warriors,  could  still  be  seen  above  the  grass. 

"  How  are  wegoin'  to  get  them,  then,  captain  ?  "  inquired 
the  hunter.  "  They'll  beat  us  to  the  rocks  ;  they  kin  run 
like  scared  dogs." 

"  Better  let  them  go,  poor  devils  !  "  said  Seguin,  seem- 
ingly unwilling  that  blood  should  be  spilled  so  wantonly. 

"  No,  captain,"  rejoined  the  same  speaker  ;  "  we  won't 
fire  but  we'll  git  them,  if  we  kin,  'ithout  it.  Boys,  follow  me 
down  this  way. 

And  the  man  was  about  guiding  his  horse  in  among  the 
loose  rocks,  so  as  to  pass  unperceived  between  the  dwarfs 
and  the  mountain. 

But  the  brutal  fellow  was  frustrated  in  his  design  ;  for  at 
that  moment  El  Sol  and  his  sister  appeared  in  the  opening, 
and  their  brilliant  habiliments  caught  the  eyes  of  the  Diggers. 
Like  startled  deer  they  sprang  to  their  feet,  and  ran,  or 
rather  flew,  toward  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  The  hunters 
galloped  to  intercept  them,  but  they  were  too  late.  Before 
they  could  come  up,  the  Diggers  had  dived  into  the  crevices 
of  the  rocks  or  were  seen  climbing  like  chamois  along  the 
cliffs,  far  out  of  reach. 

One  of  the  hunters  only — Sanchez — succeeded  in  making 


222  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

a  capture.  His  victim  had  reached  a  high  ledge,  and  was 
scrambling  along  it,  when  the  lasso  of  the  bull-fighter  settled 
round  his  neck.  The  next  moment  he  was  plucked  out  into 
the  air,  and  fell  with  a  "  cranch  "  upon  the  rocks  ! 

I  rode  forward  to  look  at  him.  He  was  dead.  He  had 
been  crushed  by  the  fall ;  in  fact,  mangled  to  a  shapeless 
mass,  and  exhibited  a  most  loathsome  and  hideous  sight. 

The  unfeeling  hunter  recked  not  of  this.  With  a  coarse 
jest  he  stooped  over  the  body  ;  and  severing  the  scalp,  stuck 
it,  reeking  and  bloody,  behind  the  waist  of  his  calzoneros  1 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 


DACOMA. 


E     all     now 
hurried  for- 
ward to  the 
spring,  and, 
dismounting,     turned 
our   horses'  heads  to 
the  water,  leaving 
them  to  drink  at  will. 
We   had    no   fear   of 
their  running  away. 

Our  own  thirst  re- 
quired slaking  as  much 
as  theirs  ;  and,  crowd- 
ing into  the  branch, 
we  poured  the  cold  water  down  our  throats  in  cupf  uls.  We 
felt  as  though  we  should  never  be  surfeited ;  but  another 
appetite,  equally  strong,  lured  us  away  from  the  spring ;  and 
we  ran  over  the  camp-ground  in  search  of  the  means  to  gratify 
it.  We  scattered  the  coyotes  and  white  wolves  with  our 
shouts,  and  drove  them  with  missiles  from  the  ground. 

We  were  about  stooping  to  pick  up  the  dust-covered  mor- 
sels, when  a  strange  exclamation  from  one  of  the  hunters 
caused  us  to  look  hastily  round. 

"  Malaray,  camarados  ;  mira  el  arco  I 
223 


111  /!)'--ifI!!i 


224  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

The  Mexican  who  uttered  these  words  stood  pointing  to 
an  object  that  lay  upon  the  ground  at  his  feet.  We  ran  up 
to  ascertain  what  it  was. 

"Caspita!"  again  ejaculated  the  man.  "It  is  a  white 
bow !  " 

"  A  white  bow,  by  gosh !  "  echoed  Garey. 

"  A  white  bow  !  "  shouted  several  others,  eyeing  the  object 
with  looks  of  astonishment  and  alarm. 

"  That  belonged  to  a  big  warrior,  I'll  sartify,"  said  Garey. 

"  Ay,"  added  another,  "  an'  one  that'll  ride  back  for  it,  as 
soon  as Holies  !  look  yonder !  he's  coming,  by !  " 

Our  eyes  rolled  over  the  prairie  together,  eastward  as  the 
speaker  pointed.  An  object  was  just  visible  low  down  on 
the  horizon,  like  a  moving  blazing  star.  It  was  not  that. 
At  a  glance  we  all  knew  what  it  was.  It  was  a  helmet,  flash- 
ing under  the  sunbeam,  as  it  rose  and  fell  to  the  measured 
gallop  of  a  horse. 

"  To  the  willows,  men  !  to  the  willows  !  "  shouted  Seguin. 
"  Drop  the  bow  1  Leave  it  where  it  was.  To  your  horses  ! 
Lead  them  I     Crouch  !  crouch  !  " 

We  all  ran  to  our  horses,  and,  seizing  the  bridles,  half- 
led,  half-dragged  them  within  the  willow  thicket.  We  leaped 
into  our  saddles,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  any  emergency,  and 
sat  peering  through  the  leaves  that  screened  us. 

"  Shall  we  fire  as  he  comes  up,  captain  ?  "  asked  one  of 
the  men. 

"  No." 

"  We  kin  take  him  nicely,  just  as  he  stoops  for  the  bow." 

"  No  ;  not  for  your  lives  I  " 

"  What  then,  captain  ?  " 

"  Let  him  take  it  and  go,"  was  Seguin 's  reply. 

"  Why,  captain  ?  what's  that  for  ? " 

"  Fools !  do  you  not  see  that  the  whole  tribe  would  be 
back  upon  our  trail  before  midnight  ?     Are  you  mad  ?     Let 


DACOMA.  225 

him  go.  He  may  not  notice  our  tracks,  as  our  horses  are 
not  shod.     If  so,  let  him  go  as  he  came,  I  tell  you." 

"  But  how,  captain,  if  he  squints  yonderway. 

Garey,  as  he  said  this,  pointed  to  the  rocks  at  the  foot  of 
the  mountain. 

"  Sac-r-r-re  Dieu  !  the  digger !  "  exclaimed  Seguin,  his 
countenance  changing  expression. 

The  body  lay  on  a  conspicuous  point,  on  its  face,  the 
crimson  skull  turned  upward  and  outward,  so  that  it  could 
hardly  fail  to  attract  the  eye  of  any  one  coming  in  from  the 
plain.  Several  coyotes  had  already  climbed  up  on  the  slab 
where  it  lay,  and  were  smelling  around  it,  seemingly  not 
caring  to  touch  the  hideous  morsel. 

"  He's  bound  to  see  it,  captain,"  added  the  hunter. 

"  If  so,  we  must  take  him  with  the  lance,  the  lasso,  or  alive. 
No  gun  must  be  fired.  They  might  still  hear  it,  and  would 
be  on  us  before  we  could  get  round  the  mountain.  No ! 
sling  your  guns !  Let  those  who  have  lances  and  bssoes  get 
them  in  readiness." 

"  When  would  you  have  us  make  the  dash,  captain  ?  " 

"  Leave  that  to  me.  Perhaps  he  may  dismount  for  the 
bow  ;  or,  if  not,  he  may  ride  into  the  spring  to  water  his 
horse,  then  Ave  can  surround  him.  If  he  see  the  Digger's 
body,  he  may  pass  up  to  examine  it  more  closely.  In  that 
case  we  can  intercept  him  without  difficulty.  Be  patient ! 
I  shall  give  you  the  signal." 

During  all  this  time,  the  Navajo  was  coming  up  at  a 
regular  gallop.  As  the  dialogue  ended,  he  had  got  within 
about  three  hundred  yards  of  the  spring,  and  still  pressed 
forward  without  slacking  his  pace.  We  kept  our  gaze  fixed 
upon  him  in  breathless  silence,  eyeing  both  man  and  horse. 

It  was  a  splendid  sight.  The  horse  was  a  large  coal-black 
mustang,  with  fiery  eyes  and  red  open  nostrils.  He  was 
foaming  at  the  mouth,  and  the  white  flakes  had  clouted  his 


226  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

throat,  counter,  and  shoulders.  He  was  wet  all  over,  and 
glittered  as  he  moved  with  the  play  of  his  proud  flanks. 
The  rider  was  naked  from  the  waist  up,  excepting  his  hel- 
met and  plumes,  and  some  ornaments  that  glistened  on  his 
neck,  bosom,  and  wrists.  A  tunic-like  skirt,  bright  and 
embroidered,  covered  his  hips  and  thighs.     Below  the  knee 


A  Mexican  Lasso,  Braided  with  Strands  of  Rawhide. 

his  legs  were  naked,  ending  in  a  buskined  mocassin,  that 
fitted  tightly  round  the  ankle.  Unlike  the  Apache's,  there 
was  no  paint  upon  his  body,  and  his  bronze  complexion 
shone  with  the  hue  of  health.  His  features  were  noble  and 
warlike,  his  eye  bold  and  piercing,  and  his  long  black  hair 
swept  away  behind  him,  mingling  with  the  tail  of  his  horse. 
He  rode  upon  a  Spanish  saddle  with  his  lance  poised  on  the 
stirrup,  and  resting  lightly  against  his  right  arm.     His  left 


DACOMA.  227 

was  thrust  through  the  strap  of  a  white  shield,  and  a  quiver 
with  its  feathered  shafts  peeped  over  his  shoulder. 

His  bow  was  before  him. 

It  was  a  splendid  sight,  both  horse  and  rider,  as  they  rose 
together  over  the  green  swells  of  the  prairie  ;  a  picture  more 
like  that  of  some  Homeric  hero  than  a  savage  of  the  "  wild 
west." 

"  Wagh  !  "  exclaimed  one  of  the  hunters  in  an  undertone  ; 
"  how  they  glitter  !  Look  at  that  'ar  headpiece  !  It's  fairly 
a-blazin' ! " 

"  Ay,"  rejoined  Garey,  "  we  may  thank  the  piece  o'  brass. 
We'd  have  been  in  as  ugly  a  fix  as  he's  in  now  if  we  hadn't 
sighted  it  in  time.  What ! "  continued  the  trapper,  his  voice 
rising  into  earnestness  ;  "  Dacoma,  by  the  Etarnal !  The 
second  chief  of  the  Navajoes  !  " 

I  turned  toward  Seguin  to  witness  the  effect  of  this 
announcement.  The  Maricopa  was  leaning  over  to  him, 
muttering  some  words  in  an  unknown  tongue,  and  gesticu- 
lating with  energy.  I  recognized  the  name  "  Dacoma,"  and 
there  was  an  expression  of  fierce  hatred  in  the  chief's  coun- 
tenance as  he  pointed  to  the  advancing  horseman. 

"  Well,  then,"  answered  Seguin,  apparently  assenting  to 
the  wishes  of  the  other,  "  he  shall  not  escape,  whether  he 
sees  it  or  no.  But  do  not  use  your  gun :  they  are  not  ten 
miles  off  :  yonder  behind  the  swell.  We  can  easily  surround 
him.  If  not,  /can  overtake  him  on  this  horse,  and  here's 
another. 

As  Seguin  uttered  the  last  speech  he  pointed  to  Moro. 
"  Silence  1  "  he  continued,  lowering  his  voice.     "  Hish-sh  !  " 

The  silence  became  death-like.     Each  man   sat  pressing 
his  horse  with  his  knees,  as  if  thus  to  hold  him  at  rest. 
1     The  Navajo  had  now  reached  the  border  of  the  deserted 
camp ;   and  inclining  to  the  left,  he  galloped  down  the  line, 
scattering  the  wolves  as  he  went.     He  sat  leaning  to  one 


228  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

side,  his  gaze  searching  the  ground.  When  nearly  opposite 
to 'our  ambush,  he  descried  the  object  of  his  search,  and 
sliding  his  feet  out  of  the  stirrup,  guided  his  horse  so  as  to 
shave  closely  past  it.  Then,  without  reining  in,  or  even 
slacking  his  pace,  he  bent  over  until  his  plume  swept  the 
earth,  and  picking  up  the  bow,  swung  himself  back  into  the 
saddle. 

"  Beautiful !  "  exclaimed  the  bull-fighter. 

"  By  gosh  !  it's  a  pity  to  kill  him,"  muttered  a  hunter  ; 
and  a  low  murmur  of  admiration  was  heard  among  the  men. 

After  a  few  more  springs,  the  Indian  suddenly  wheeled, 
and  was  about  to  gallop  back,  when  his  eye  was  caught  by 
the  ensanguined  object  upon  the  rock.  He  reined  in  with  a 
jerk,  until  the  hips  of  his  horse  almost  rested  upon  the 
prairie,  and  sat  gazing  upon  the  body  with  a  look  of  surprise. 

"  Beautiful  1 "  again  exclaimed  Sanchez  ;  "  carrambo, 
beautiful !  " 

It  was,  in  effect,  as  fine  a  picture  as  ever  the  eye  looked 
upon.  The  horse  with  his  tail  scattered  upon  the  ground, 
with  crest  erect  and  breathing  nostril,  quivering  under  the 
impulse  of  his  masterly  rider ;  the  rider  himself,  with  his 
glancing  helmet  and  waving  plumes,  his  bronze  complexion, 
his  firm  and  graceful  seat,  and  his  eye  fixed  in  the  gaze  of 
wonder. 

It  was,  as  Sanchez  had  said,  a  beautiful  picture — a  living 
statue  ;  and  all  of  us  were  filled  with  admiration  as  we  looked 
upon  it.  Not  one  of  the  party  with  perhaps  an  exception, 
should  have  liked  to  fire  the  shot  that  would  have  tumbled 
it  from  its  pedestal. 

Horse  and  man  remained  in  this  attitude  for  some  mo- 
ments. Then  the  expression  of  the  rider's  countenance 
suddenly  changed.  His  eye  wandered  with  an  inquiring 
and  somewhat  terrified  look.  It  rested  upon  the  water,  still 
muddy  with  the  trampling  of  our  horses. 


DACOMA.  229 

One  glance  was  sufficient ;  and,  with  a  quick,  strong  jerk 
upon  the  bridle,  the  savage  horseman  wheeled,  and  struck 
out  for  the  prairie. 

Our  charging  signal  had  been  given  at  the  same  instant ;  and 
springing  forward,  we  shot  out  of  the  copse-wood  in  a  body. 

We  had  to  cross  the  rivulet.  Seguin  was  some  paces  in 
advance  as  we  rode  forward  to  it.  I  saw  his  horse  suddenly 
balk,  stumble  over  the  bank,  and  roll  headlong  into  the  water  1 

The  rest  of  us  went  splashing  through.  I  did  not  stop 
to  look  back.  I  knew  that  now  the  taking  of  the  Indian 
was  life  or  death  to  all  of  us  ;  and  I  struck  my  spur  deeply, 
and  strained  forward  in  the  pursuit. 

For  some  time  we  all  rode  together  in  a  dense  "  clump." 
When  fairly  out  on  the  plain,  we  saw  the  Indian  ahead  of 
us  about  a  dozen  lengths  of  his  horse,  and  one  and  all  felt 
with  dismay  that  he  was  keeping  his  distance,  if  not  actually 
increasing  it. 

We  had  forgotten  the  condition  of  our  animals.  They 
were  faint  with  hunger,  and  stiff  from  standing  so  long  in 
the  ravine.     Moreover,  they  had  just  drunk  to  a  surfeit. 

I  soon  found  that  I  was  forging  ahead  of  my  companions. 
The  superior  swiftness  of  Moro  gave  me  the  advantage. 
El  Sol  was  still  before  me.  I  saw  him  circling  his  lasso  ; 
I  saw  him  launch  it,  and  suddenly  jerk  up ;  I  saw  the  loop 
sliding  over  the  hips  of  the  flying  mustang.  He  had  missed 
his  aim. 

He  was  recoiling  the  rope  as  I  shot  past  him,  and  I 
noticed  his  look  of  chagrin  and  disappointment. 

My  Arab  had  now  warmed  to  the  chase,  and  I  was  soon 
far  ahead  of  my  comrades.  I  perceived,  too,  that  I  was 
closing  upon  the  Navajo.  Every  spring  brought  me  nearer, 
until  there  were  not  a  dozen  lengths  between  us. 

I  knew  not  how  to  act.  I  held  my  rifle  in  my  hands,  and 
could  have  shot  the  Indian  in  the  back  ;  but  I  remembered 


230  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

the  injunction  of  Seguin,  and  we  were  now  closer  to  the  enemy 
than  ever.  I  did  not  know  but  that  we  might  be  in  sight  of 
them.     I  dared  not  fire. 

I  was  still  undecided  whether  to  use  my  knife  or  endeavor 
to  unhorse  the  Indian  with  my  clubbed  rifle,  when  he  glanced 
over  his  shoulder  and  saw  that  I  was  alone. 

Suddenly  he  wheeled,  and,  throwing  his  lance  to  a  charge, 
came  galloping  back.  His  horse  seemed  to  work  without 
the  rein,  obedient  to  his  voice  and  the  touch  of  his  knees. 

I  had  just  time  to  throw  up  my  rifle  and  parry  the  charge, 
which  was  a  right  point.  I  did  not  parry  it  successfully. 
The  blade  grazed  my  arm,  tearing  my  flesh.  The  barrel  of 
my  rifle  caught  in  the  sling  of  the  lance,  and  the  piece  was 
whipped  out  of  my  hands. 

The  wound,  the  shock,  and  the  loss  of  my  weapon,  had 
discomposed  me  in  the  manege  of  my  horse,  and  it  was  some 
time  before  I  could  gain  the  bridle  to  turn  him.  My  antag- 
onist had  wheeled  sooner,  as  I  knew  by  the  "  hist  "  of  an 
arrow  that  scattered  the  curls  over  my  right  ear.  As  I  faced 
him  again  another  was  on  the  string,  and  the  next  moment 
it  was  sticking  through  my  left  arm. 

I  was  now  angry ;  and,  drawing  a  pistol  from  the  holster, 
I  cocked  it,  and  galloped  forward.  I  knew  it  was  the  only 
chance  for  my  life. 

The  Indian,  at  the  same  time,  dropped  his  bow.  and, 
bringing  his  lance  to  the  charge,  spurred  on  to  meet  me.  I 
was  determined  not  to  fire  until  near  and  sure  of  hitting. 

We  closed  at  full  gallop.  Our  horses  almost  touched.  I 
leveled,  and  pulled  trigger.  The  cap  snapped  upon  my 
pistol  1 

The  lance  blade  glittered  in  my  eyes ;  its  point  was  at  my 
breast.  Something  struck  me  sharply  in  the  face.  It  was 
the  ring-loop  of  a  lasso.  I  saw  it  settle  over  the  shoulders 
of  the  Indian,  falling  to  his  elbows.     It  tightened  as  it  fell. 


DACOMA.  231 

There  was  a  wild  yell,  a  quick  jerk  of  my  antagonist's  body, 
the  lance  flew  from  his  hands,  and  the  next  moment  he  was 
plucked  out  of  his  saddle,  and  lying  helpless  upon  the 
prairie. 

His  horse  met  mine  with  a  concussion  that  sent  both  of 
them  to  the  earth.  We  rolled  and  scrambled  about,  and 
rose  again. 

When  I  came  to  my  feet  El  Sol  was  standing  over  the 
Navajo,  with  his  knife  drawn,  and  his  lasso  looped  around 
the  arms  of  his  captive. 

"  The  horse !  the  horse  !  secure  the  horse  !  "  shouted  Seguin, 
as  he  galloped  up ;  and  the  crowd  dashed  past  me  in  pursuit 
of  the  mustang,  which,  with  trailing  bridle,  was  scouring  over 
the  prairie. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  animal  was  lassoed,  and  led  back  to 
the  spot  so  near  being  made  sacred  with  my  grave. 


Indian  Utensils,  Ornaments,  etc. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


A    DINNER    WITH    TWO    DISHES. 

L  SOL,  I  have  said  was 
standing  over  the  pros- 
trate Indian.     His  coun- 
tenance    indicated    the 
blending  of   two     emotions,    hate 
and  triumph. 

His  sister  at  this  moment  gal- 
loped up,  and,  leaping   from   her 
'Jk  horse,  advanced  rapidly  forward. 

"  Behold !  "    said    he,    pointing    to    the    Navajo     chief : 
"  behold  the  murderer  of  our  mother  !  " 

The  girl  uttered  a   short,  sharp   exclamation  ;  and,  draw- 
ing a  knife,  rushed  upon  the  captive. 

"  No,  Luna  1  "  cried  El  Sol,  putting  her  aside  ;  "  no ;  we 
are  not  assassins.  That  is  not  revenge.  He  shall  not  yet 
die.  We  will  show  him  alive  to  the  squaws  of  the  Maricopa. 
They  shall  dance  the  mamanchic  over  this  great  chief — this 
warrior  captured  without  a  wound  I  " 
233 


A   DINNER   WITH    TWO    DISHES.  233 

El  Sol  uttered  these  words  in  a  contemptuous  tone.  The 
effect  was  visible  on  the  Navajo. 

"  Dog  of  a  Coco  !  "  cried  he,  making  an  involuntary  strug- 
gle to  free  himself  ;  "  dog  of  a  Coco !  leagued  with  the  pale 
robbers.     Dog !  " 

"  Ha  !  you  remember  me,  Dacoma  ?     It  is  well " 

"  Dog  !  "  again  ejaculated  the  Navajo,  interrupting  him  ; 
and  the  words  hissed  through  his  teeth,  while  his  eye  glared 
with  an  expression  of  the  fiercest  malignity. 

"  He  !  he  !  "  cried  Rube,  at  this  moment  galloping  up  ; 
"  he  !  he  !  that  Injun's  as  savagerous  as  a  meat-ax.     Lamm 

him  !  d n  him  !     Warm  his  collops  wi'  the  bull  rope : 

he's  warmed  my  old  mar.     Nick  syrup  him  !  " 

"  Let  us  look  to  your  wound,  M.  Haller,"  said  Seguin, 
alighting  from  his  horse,  and  approaching  me,  as  I  thought, 
with  an  uneasiness  of  manner.  "  How  is  it  ?  through  the 
flesh  ?  You  are  safe  enough  ;  if,  indeed,  the  arrow  has  not 
been  poisoned.  I  fear  :  El  Sol !  here  !  quick,  my  friend  ! 
tell  me  if  this  point  has  been  dipped." 

"  Let  us  first  take  it  out,"  replied  the  Maricopa,  coming 
up  ;  "  we  shall  lose  no  time  by  that." 

The  arrow  was  sticking  through  my  forearm.  The  barb 
had  pierced  through  the  flesh,  until  about  half  of  the  shaft 
appeared  on  the  opposite  side. 

El  Sol  caught  the  feather  end  in  both  his  hands,  and 
snapped  it  at  the  lapping.  He  then  took  hold  of  the  barb 
and  drew  it  gently  out  of  the  wound. 

"  Let  it  bleed,"  said  he,  "  till  I  have  examined  the  point. 
It  does  not  look  like  a  war-shaft ;  but  the  Navajoes  use 
a  very  subtle  poison.  Fortunately  I  possess  the  means  of 
detecting  it,  as  well  as  its  antidote." 

As  he  said  this,  he  took  from  his  pouch  a  tuft  of  raw 
cotton.  With  this  he  rubbed  the  blood  lightly  from  the 
blade.      He    then    drew   forth    a    small    stone    phial,    and, 


234  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

pouring  a  few  drops  of  liquid  upon  the  metal,  watched  the 
result. 

I  waited  with  no  slight  feeling  of  uneasiness.  Seguin 
too,  appeared  anxious ;  and  as  I  knew  that  he  must  have 
oftentimes  witnessed  the  effect  of  a  poisoned  arrow,  I  did  not 
feel  very  comfortable,  seeing  him  watch  the  assaying  process 
with  so  much  apparent  anxiety.  I  knew  there  was  danger 
where  he  dreaded  it. 

"  M.  Haller,  said  El  Sol,  at  length,  "  you  are  in  luck  this 
time.  I  think  I  may  call  it  luck,  for  your  antagonist  has 
surely  some  in  his  quiver  not  quite  so  harmless  as  this  one. " 

"  Let  me  see,"  he  added  ;  and,  stepping  up  to  the  Navajo, 
he  drew  another  arrow  from  the  quiver  that  still  remained 
slung  upon  the  Indian's  back.  After  subjecting  the  blade 
to  a  similar  test,  he  exclaimed — 

"  I  told  you  so.  Look  at  this,  green  as  a  plantain  !  He 
fired  two  ;  where  is  the  other  ?  Comrades,  help  me  to  find 
it.     Such  a  tell-tale  as  that  must  not  be  left  behind  us." 

Several  of  the  men  leaped  from  their  horses,  and  searched 
for  the  shaft  that  had  been  shot  first.  I  pointed  out  the 
direction  and  probable  distance  as  near  as  I  could,  and  in  a 
few  moments  it  was  picked  up. 

El  Sol  took  it,  and  poured  a  few  drops  of  his  liquid  on 
the  blade.     It  turned  green  like  the  other. 

"  You  may  thank  your  saints,  M.  Haller,"  said  the  Coco, 
"  it  was  not  this  one  made  that  hole  in  your  arm,  else  it 
would  have  taken  all  the  skill  of  Doctor  Reichter  and  myself 
to  have  saved  you.  But  what's  this  ?  Another  wound  ! 
Ha  I  He  touched  you  as  he  made  his  right  point.  Let  me 
look  at  it." 

"  I  think  it  is  only  a  scratch." 

"  This  is  a  strange  climate,  M.  Haller.  I  have  seen  such 
scratches  become  mortal  wounds  when  not  sufficiently  val- 
ued.    Luna !     Some  cotton,  sis  !     I  shall  endeavor  to  dress 


A   DINNER  WITH   TWO   DISHES.  235 

yours  so  that  you  need  not  fear  that  result.  You  deserve 
that  much  at  my  hands.  But  for  you,  sir,  he  would  have 
escaped  me." 

"  But  for  you,  sir,  he  would  have  killed  me." 

"  Well,"  replied  the  Coco,  with  a  smile,  "  it  is  possible  you 
would  not  have  come  off  so  well.  Your  weapon  played  you 
false.  It  is  hardly  just  to  expect  a  man  to  parry  a  lance- 
point  with  a  clubbed  rifle,  though  it  was  beautifully  done. 
I  do  not  wonder  that  you  pulled  trigger  in  the  second  joust. 
I  intended  doing  so  myself,  had  the  lasso  failed  me  again. 
But  we  are  in  luck  both  ways.  You  must  sling  this  arm  for 
a  day  or  two.     Luna  !  that  scarf  of  yours." 

"  No  !  "  said  I,  as  the  girl  proceeded  to  unfasten  a  beautiful 
scarf  which  she  wore  around  her  waist ;  "  you  shall  not :  I 
will  find  something  else." 

"  Here,  mister  ;  if  this  will  do,"  interposed  the  young  trap- 
per Garey,  "  you  are  heartily  welcome  to  it. 

As  Garey  said  this,  he  pulled  a  colored  handkerchief  out  * 
of  the  breast  of  his  hunting-shirt,  and  held  it  forth. 

"  You  are  very  kind  ;  thank  you  !  "  I  replied,  although  I 
knew  on  whose  account  the  kerchief  was  given  ;  "  you  will 
be  pleased  to  accept  this  in  return."  And  I  offered  him  one 
of  my  small  revolvers  :  a  weapon  that,  at  that  time  and  in 
that  place,  was  worth  its  weight  in  pearls. 

The  mountain  man  knew  this,  and  very  gracefully  accepted 
the  proffered  gift ;  but  much  as  he  might  have  prized  it,  I 
saw  that  he  was  still  more  gratified  with  a  simple  smile  that 
he  received  from  another  quarter,  and  I  felt  certain  that  the 
scarf  would  soon  change  owners,  at  any  rate. 

I  watched  the  countenance  of  El  Sol  to  see  if  he  had  no- 
ticed or  approved  of  this  little  by-play.  I  could  perceive  no 
unusual  emotion  upon  it.  He  was  busy  with  my  wounds, 
which  he  dressed  in  a  manner  that  would  have  done  credit 
to  a  member  of  the  R.  C.  S. 


236  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"Now,"  said  he,  when  he  had  finished,  "  you  will  be  ready 
for  as  much  more  fighting  in  a  couple  of  days  at  the  farthest. 
You  have  a  bad  bridle-arm,  M.  Haller,  but  the  best  horse  I 
ever  saw.     I  do  not  wonder  at  your  refusing  to  sell  him. 

Most  of  the  conversation  had  been  carried  on  in  English ; 
and  it  was  spoken  by  the  Coco  chief  with  an  accent  and  em- 
phasis, to  my  ear,  as  good  as  I  had  ever  heard.  He  spoke 
French,  too,  like  a  Parisian  ;  and  it  was  in  this  language  that 
he  usually  conversed  with  Seguin.     I  wondered  at  all  this. 

The  men  had  remounted  with  the  intention  of  returning 
to  the  camp.  Extreme  hunger  was  now  prompting  us  :  and 
we  commenced  riding  back  to  partake  of  the  repast  so  un- 
ceremoniously interrupted. 

At  a  short  distance  from  the  camp  we  dismounted,  and, 
picketing  our  horses  upon  the  grass,  walked  forward  to  search 
for  the  stray  steaks  and  ribs  we  had  lately  seen  in  plenty. 
A  new  chagrin  awaited  us  ;  not  a  morsel  of  flesh  remained ! 
The  cayotes  had  taken  advantage  of  our  absence,  and  we 
could  see  nothing  around  us  but  naked  bones.  The  thighs 
and  ribs  of  the  buffaloes  had  been  polished  as  if  scraped 
with  a  knife.  Even  the  hideous  carcass  of  the  Digger  had 
become  a  shining  skeleton  ! 

"  Wagh  !  "  exclaimed  one  of  the  hunters  ;  "  wolf  now  or 
nothing ;  hyar  goes  !  "  and  the  man  leveled  his  rifle. 

"  Hold  !  "  exclaimed  Seguin,  seeing  the  act.  "  Are  you 
mad,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  reckon  not,  capt'n,"  replied  the  hunter,  doggedly  bring- 
ing down  his  piece.  "  We  must  eat,  I  s'pose.  I  see  nothin' 
but  them  about ;  an'  how  are  we  goin'  to  get  them  'ithout 
shootin'  ? " 

Seguin  made  no  reply,  except  by  pointing  to  the  bow  which 
El  Sol  was    making  ready. 

"  Eh-ho  !  "  added  the  hunter ;  "  yer  right,  capt'n.  I  asks 
pardon.     I  had  forgot  that  piece  o'  bone." 


A   DINNER   WITH    TWO    DISHES.  237 

The  Coco  took  an  arrow  from  the  quiver,  and  tried  the 
head  with  the  assaying  liquid.  It  proved  to  be  a  hunting 
shaft ;  and,  adjusting  it  to  the  string,  he  sent  it  through  the 
body  of  a  white  wolf,  killing  it  instantly.  He  took  up  the 
shaft  again,  and  wiping  the  feather,  shot  another,  and  another, 
until  the  bodies  of  five  or  six  of  these  animals  lay  stretched 
upon  the  ground. 

"  Kill  a  coyote  when  ye're  about  it,"  shouted  one  of  the 
hunters ;  "  gentlemen  like  we  oughter  have  leastwise  two 
courses  to  our  dinner." 

The  men  laughed  at  this  rough  sally  ;  and  El  Sol,  smiling, 
again  picked  up  the  arrow,  and  sent  it  whizzing  through  the 
body  of  one  of  the  coyotes. 

"  I  think  that  will  be  enough  for  one  meal,  at  all  events," 
said  El  Sol,  recovering  the  arrow,  and  putting  it  back  into 
the  quiver. 

"  Ay  ! "  replied  the  wit ;  "  if  we  wants  more  we  kin  go 
back  to  the  larder  agin.  It's  a  kind  o'  meat  that  eats  better 
fresh,  anyhow." 

"  Well,  it  diz,  hoss.  Wagh  1  I'm  in  for  a  griskin  o'  the 
white.     Hyar  goes  !  " 

The  hunters,  laughing,  at  the  humor  of  their  comrades, 
drew  their  shining  knives,  and  set  about  skinning  the  wolves. 
The  adroitness  with  which  this  operation  was  performed 
showed  that  it  was  by  no  means  new  to  them. 

In  a  short  time  the  animals  were  stripped  of  their  hides 
and  quarters  ;  and  each  man,  taking  his  quarter,  commenced 
roasting  it  over  the  fire. 

"  Fellers !  what  d'ye  call  this  anyhow  ?  Beef  or  mutton  ?  " 
asked  one,  as  they  began  to  eat. 

"  Wolf-mutton,  I  reckin,"  was  the  reply. 

"  It's  dog-gone  good  eatin',  I  say  ;  peels  off  as  tender  as 
squ'll." 

"  It's  some'ut  like  goat,  ain't  it  ? " 


238  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS.  v 

"  Mine  tastes  more  like  dog  to  me." 

"  It  ain't  bad  at  all ;  better  than  poor  bull  any  day." 

"  I'd  like  it  a  heap  better  if  I  war  sure  the  thing  hadn't 
been  up  to  yon  varmint  on  the  rocks."  And  the  man  who 
said  this  pointed  to  the  skeleton  of  the  Digger. 

The  idea  was  horrible,  and  under  other  circumstances 
would  have  acted  as  a  sufficient  emetic. 

"  Wagh  1 "  exclaimed  a  hunter ;  "  )^e've  'most  taken  away 
my  stammuck.  I  was  a-goin'  to  try  the  coyoat  afore  ye 
spoke.  I  won't  now,  for  I  seed  them  smellin'  about  him  afore 
we  rid  off." 

"  I  say,  old  case,  you  don't  mind  it,  do  ye  ?  " 

This  was  addressed  to  Rube,  who  was  busy  on  his  rib, 
and  made  no  reply. 

"  He  ?  not  he,"  said  another,  answering  for  him.  "  Rube's 
ate  a  heap  o'  queery  tit-bits  in  his  time.     Hain't  ye,  Rube  ?  " 

"  Ay,  an'  afore  yur  be  as  long  in  the  mountains  as  this 
child,  'ee'll  be  glad  to  get  yur  teeth  over  wuss  chawin's  than 
wolfmeat :  see  if  'ee  don't,  young  fellur." 

"  Man-meat,  I  reckin  ?  " 

"  Ay,  that's  what  Rube  means." 

"  Boyees  !  "  said  Rube,  not  heeding  the  remark,  and  ap- 
parently in  good  humor,  now  that  he  was  satisfying  his 
appetite  ;  "  what's  the  nassiest  thing,  leavin'  out  man-meat, 
any  o'  'ees  iver  chawed  ?  " 

"  Woman-meat,  I  reckin." 

"  'Ee  chuckle-headed  fool !  yur  needn't  be  so  peert  now, 
showin'  yur  smartness  when  'tain't  called  for  nohow." 

"Wal,  leavin' out  man-meat,  as  you  say,"  remarked  one  of 
the  hunters  in  answer  to  Rube's  question,  "  a  muss-rat's  the 
meanest  thing  I  ever  set  teeth  on." 

"  I've  chawed  sage  hare — raw  at  that,"  said  a  second, 
"  an'  I  don't  want  to  eat  anything  that's  bitterer." 

"  Owl's  no  great  eatin',"  added  a  third. 


A  DINNER  WITH   TWO   DISHES.  239 

"  I've  ate  skunk,"  continued  a  fourth ;  "  an'  I've  ate 
sweeter  meat  in  my  time." 

"  Carajo  I "  exclaimed  a  Mexican,  "  what  do  you  think  of 
monkey  ?  I  have  dined  upon  that  down  south  many's  the 
time." 

"  Wal,  I  guess  monkey's  but  tough  chawin's  ;  but  I've 
sharped  my  teeth  on  dry  burner  hide,  and  it  wa'n't  as  tender 
as  it  mout'  a  been." 

"  This  child,"  said  Rube,  after  the  rest  had  given  in  their 
experience,  "  leavin'  monkey  to  the  beside,  have  ate  all  them 
critturs  as  has  been  named  yet.  Monkey  he  hain't,  bein'  as 
thur's  none  o'  'em  in  these  parts.  It  may  be  tough,  or  it 
mayn't ;  it  may  be  bitter,  an'  it  mayn't,  for  what  I  knows 
to  the  contrairywise ;  but,  oncest  on  a  time,  this  niggur 
chawed  a  varmint  that  wa'n't  much  sweeter,  if  it  wur  as 
sweet." 

"What  was  it,  Rube  ?  "  "  What  was  it  ?  "  asked  several 
in  a  breath,  curious  to  know  what  the  old  trapper  could  have 
eaten  more  unpalatable  than  the  viands  already  named." 

"  'Twur  turkey-buzzart  then  ;  that's  what  it  wur." 

"  Turkey-buzzard  !  "  echoed  every  one. 

"  'Twa'n't  anythin'  else." 

"  Wagh !  that  was  a  stinkin'  pill,  an'  no  mistake." 

"  That  beats  me  all  hollow." 

"  And  when  did  ye  eat  the  buzzard,  old  boy  ?  "  asked  one, 
suspecting  that  there  might  be  a  "  story  "  connected  with 
this  feat  of  the  earless  trapper. 

"  Ay  !  tell  us  that,  Rube  ;  tell  us  !  "  cried  several. 

"  Wal,"  commenced  Rube,  after  a  moment's  silence, 
'twur  about  six  yeern  ago,  I  wur  set  afoot  on  the  Arkansaw, 
by  the  Rapahoes,  leastwise  two  hunder  mile  below  the  big 
Timmer.  The  cussed  skunks  tuk  hoss,  beaver,  an'  all.  He  ! 
he  I  "  continued  the  speaker  with  a  chuckle  ;  "  he  1  he  !  they 
mout  'a  did  as  well  an'  let  ole  Rube  alone." 


240  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  I  reckon  that,  too,"  remarked  a  hunter.  "  'Tain't  like 
they  made  much  out  o'  that  speckelashun.  Well — about  the 
buzzard  ? " 

"  'Ee  see,  I  wur  cleaned  out,  an'  left  with  jest  a  pair  o' 
leggins,  better  than  two  hunder  miles  from  anywhur.  Bent's 
wur  the  nearest ;  an'  I  tuk  up  the  river  in  that  direkshun. 

"  I  never  seed  varmint  o'  all  kinds  as  shy.     They  wudn't 

'a  been,  d n  'em  !  if  I'd  'a  had  my  traps  ;  but  there  wa'n't 

a  critter,  from  the  minners  in  the  water  to  the  bufflers  on 
the  paraira,  that  didn't  look  like  they  knowed  how  this  niggur 
were  fixed.  I  kud  git  nuthin'  for  two  days  but  lizard,  an' 
scarce  at  that." 

"  Lizard's  but  poor  eatin',"  remarked  one. 

"  'Ee  may  say  that.  This  hyur  thigh  jeint's  fat  cow  to  it 
— it  are." 

And  Rube,  as  he  said  this,  made  a  fresh  attack  upon  the 
"  wolf-mutton." 

"  I  chawed  up  the  ole  leggins,  till  I  wur  as  naked  as  Gfoim- 
ley  Rock." 

"  Gollies  !  was  it  winter  ?  " 

"  No.  'Twur  calf-time,  an'  warm  enuf  for  that  matter..  I 
didn't  mind  the  want  o'  the  buckskin  that  away,  but  I  kud 
'a  eat  more  o'  it. 

"  The  third  day  I  struck  a  town  o'  sand-rats.  This  nig- 
gur's  har  wur  longer  then  than  it  ar  now.  I  made  snares 
o'  it,  an'  trapped  a  lot  o'  the  rats ;  but  they  grew  shy  too, 
cuss  'em !  an'  I  had  to  quit  that  speck'lashun.  This  wur 
the  third  day  from  the  time  I'd  been  set  down,  an'  I  wur 
getting  nasty  weak  on  it.  I  'gin  to  think  that  the  time  wur 
come  for  this  child  to  go  under. 

"  'Twur  a  leetle  arter  sun-up,  an'  I  wur  sittin'  on  the  bank, 
when  I  seed  somethin'  queery  floatin'  a-down  the  river. 
When  I  kim  closer,  I  seed  it  wur  the  karkidge  o'  a  buffler — 
calf  at  that — an'  a  couple  o'  buzzarts  floppin'  about  on  the 


A   DINNER  WITH   TWO   DISHES.  24I 

thing,  pickin'  its  peepers  out.  'Twur  far  out,  an'  the  water 
deep  ;  but  I'd  made  up  my  mind  to  fetch  it  ashore.  I  wan't 
long  in  stripping  I  reckin." 

Here  the  hunters  interrupted  Rube's  story  witl   a  laugh. 

"  I  tuk  the  water,  an'  swam  out.  I  kud  smell  the  thing 
afore  I  wur  half  way,  an'  when  I  got  near  it,  the  birds  miz- 
zled. I  wur  soon  clost  up,  an'  seed  at  a  glimp  that  the  calf 
wur  as  rotten  as  punk." 

"  What  a  pity  1  "  exclaimed  one  of  the  hunters. 

"  I  wa'nt  a-gwine  to  have  my  swim  for  nuthin' ;  so  I  tuk 
the  tail  in  my  teeth,  an'  swam  back  for  the  shore.  I  hadn't 
made  three  strokes  till  the  tail  pulled  out ! 

"  I  then  swum  round  ahint  the  karkidge,  an'  pushed  it 
afore  me  till  I  got  it  landed  high  an'  dry  upon  a  sandbar. 
'Twur  like  to  fall  to  pieces,  when  I  pulled  it  out  o'  the  water. 
Two!  n't  eatable  nohow  !  " 

Here  Rube  took  a  fresh  mouthful  of  the  wolf-mutton,  and 
remained  silent  until  he  had  masticated  it.  The  men  had 
become  interested  in  the  story,  and  waited  with  impatience. 
At  length  he  proceeded — 

"  I  seed  the  buzzarts  still  flyin'  about,  an'  fresh  ones  a- 
comin'.  I  tuk  a  idee  that  I  mout  git  my  claws  upon  some 
o'  'em.  So  I  lay  down  clost  up  agin  the  calf,  an'  played 
'possum. 

"  I  wa'n't  long  that  a-way  when  the  birds  begun  to  light 
on  the  sandbar,  an'  a  big  cock  kim  floppin'  up  to  the  kar- 
kidge. Afore  he  kud  flop  off  agin,  I  grupped  him  by  the 
legs." 

"  Hooraw  I  well  done,  by  gollies  !  " 

"  The  cussed  thing  wur  nearly  as  stinkin'  as  t'other,  but 
it  wur  die  dog — buzzart  or  calf — so  I  skinned  the  buzzart." 

"  And  ate  it  ?  "  inquired  an  impatient  listener. 

"  No-o,"  slowly  drawled  Rube,  apparently    "  miffed  "  at 
being  thus  interrupted.     "  It  ate  me." 
16 


242  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

The  laugh  that  followed  this  retort  restored  the  old  trapper 
to  good  humor  again. 

"  Did  you  go  it  raw,  Rube  ?  "  asked  one  of  the  hunters. 

"  How  could  he  do  otherwise  ?  He  hadn't  a  spark  o'  fire, 
an'  nothing  to  make  one  out  of." 

"  Yur  netarnal  fool  1 "  exclaimed  Rube,  turning  savagely 
on  the  last  speaker.  "  I  kud  make  a  fire  if  thur  wa'n't  a 
spark  nearer  than  h — 1 !  " 

A  wild  yell  of  laughter  followed  this  dreadful  speech,  and 
it  was  some  minutes  before  the  trapper  recovered  his  temper 
sufficiently  to  resume  his  narration. 

"  The  rest  o'  the  birds,"  continued  he  at  length,  "  seein' 
the  ole  cock  rubbed  out,  grew  shy,  and  kep  away  on  t'other 
side  o'  the  river.  'Twa'n't  no  use  tryin'  that  dodge  over 
agin.  Jest  then  I  spied  a  coyoat  comin'  lopin'  down  the 
bank,  an'  another  follerin'  upon  his  heels,  an  two  or  three 
more  on  the  same  trail.  I  know  'd  it  wud  be  no  joke  grup- 
pin'  one  o'  them  by  the  leg,  but  I  made  up  my  mind  to  try 
it ;  an'  I  lay  down  jest  as  afore,  clost  up  to  the  calf.  'Twur 
no  go.  The  cunnin'  things  see'd  the  float-stick,  an'  kep  clur 
o'  the  karkidge.  I  wur  a-gwine  to  cacher  under  some  bush 
that  wur  by,  an'  I  begun  to  carry  it  up,  when  all  of  a  suddint 
I  tuk  a  fresh  idee  in  my  head.  I  seed  thur  wur  drift-wood 
a  plenty  on  the  bank,  so  I  fotched  it  up,  an'  built  a  pen-trap 
roun'  about  the  calf.  In  the  twinklin'  o'  a  goat's  eye  I  had 
six  varmints  in  the  trap." 

"  Hooraw  !     Ye  war  safe  then,  old  hoss." 

"  I  tuk  a  lot  o'  stones  an'  then  clomb  up  on  the  pen,  an' 
killed  the  hul  kit  on  'em.  Lord,  boyees  !  'ee  never  seed 
sich  a  snappin',  an'  snarlin',  and  jumpin',  an'  yowltin',  as 
when  I  peppered  them  donicks  down  on  'em.  He  1  he  I  he  1 
Hoi  ho!  hoo!" 

And  the  smoky  old  sinner  chuckled  with  delight  at  the 
remembrance  of  his  adventure. 


A   DINNER  WITH   TWO   DISHES.  243 

"  You  reached  Bent's  then  safe  enough,  I  reckin  ?  " 
'Ee — es.  I  skinned  the  critters  wi'  a  sharp  stone,  an' 
made  me  a  sort  o'  shirt  an'  leggins.  This  niggur  had  no 
mind,  comin'  in  naked,  to  gi'  them  thur  joke  at  the  Fort.  I 
packed  enough  of  the  wolf-meat  to  last  me  up,  an'  I  got  thur 
in  less'n  a  week.  Bill  wur  thur  himself,  an'  'ee  all  know  Bill 
Bent.  He  know'd  me.  I  wa'n't  in  the  Fort  a  half  an  hour 
till  I  wur  spick  span  in  new  buckskins,  wi'  a  new  rifle  ;  an' 
that  rifle  wur  Tar-guts,  now  afore  ye." 

"  Ha  !  you  got  Tear-guts  thar  then  ?  " 

"  I  got  Tar-guts  thar  then,  an'  a  gun  she  ur.  He  !  he ! 
he !  'Twa'n't  long  arter  I  got  her  till  I  tried  her.  He !  he  1 
he  !     Ho  !  ho  1  hoo  !  " 

And  the  old  trapper  went  off  into  another  fit  of  chuck- 
ling. 

"  What  are  ye  laughin'  at  now,  Rube  ?  "  asked  one  of  his 
comrades. 

"  He  !  he !  he  !  What  am  I  larfin'  at !  He  !  he  !  he  ! 
Ho !  ho!  That  ur  the  crisp  o'  the  joke.  He  !  he  !  he  1 
What  am  I  larfin'  at  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  tell  us,  man  !  " 

"  It  are  this  then  I'm  a-larfin'  at,"  replied  Rube,  sobering 
down  a  little,  "  I  wa'n't  at  Bent's  three  days  when  who  do 
'ee  think  shed  kum  to  the  Fort  ?  " 

"  Who  ?     Maybe  the  Rapahoes  ?  " 

"  Them  same  Injuns ;  an'  the  very  niggurs  as  set  me 
afoot.  They  kum  to  the  Fort  to  trade  wi'  Bill,  an'  thur  I 
sees  both  my  old  mar  an'  rifle  !  " 

"  You  got  them  back  then  ?  " 

"  That  wur  likely.  Thur  wur  a  sight  o'  mountainy  men 
thur,  at  the  time,  that  wa'n't  the  fellurs  to  see  this  child  put 
down  on  the  parairar  for  nuthin'.  Yander's  the  critter  !  " 
and  Rube  pointed  to  the  old  mare.  "  The  rifle  I  gin  to 
Bill,  an'  kep  Tar-guts  instead,  seein'  she  wur  a  better  gun." 


244  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  So  you  got  square  with  the  Rapahoes  ?  " 

"  That,  young  fellur,  just  rests  on  what  'ee  'ud  call  squar. 
Do  'ee  see  these  hyur  nicks :  them  standin'  sep'rate  ?  " 

And  the  trapper  pointed  to  a  row  of  small  notches  cut  in 
the  stock  of  his  rifle. 

"  Ay,  ay  !  "  cried  several  men  in  reply. 

"  Thur's  five  o'  'em,  ain't  thur  ?  " 

"  One,  two,  three  ;  yes,  five." 

"  Them's  Rapahoes!" 

Rube's  story  was  ended. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

BLINDING   THE    PURSUER A   TRAPPER'S    RUSE. 

Y  this    time  the   men 
had    finished    eating, 
and    now     began    to 
gather  around  Seguin, 
for   the  purpose  of  deliberating 
on  what  course  we  should  pur- 
sue.      One   had    already    been 
sent  up  to  the  rocks  to  act  as  a 
vidette,  and  warn  us  in  case  any 
of   the  Indians    should   be   de- 
scried upon  the  prairie. 

We  all  felt  that  we  were  still 
in  a  dilemma.  The  Navajo  was  our  captive,  and  his  men, 
would  come  to  seek  for  him.  He  was  too  important  a 
personage  (second  chief  of  the  nation)  to  be  abandoned 
without  a  search,  and  his  own  followers,  nearly  half  of  the 
tribe,  would  certainly  be  back  to  the  spring.  Not  finding 
him  there,  should  they  not  discover  our  tracks,  they  would 
return   upon  the  war-trail  to  their  country. 

This,  we  all  saw,  would  render  our  expedition  impractica- 
ble, as  Dacoma's  band  alone  outnumbered  us  ;  and  should 
we  meet  them  in  their  mountain  fastnesses,  we  should  have 
no  chance  of  escape. 

245 


246  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

For  some  time  Seguin  remained  silent,  with  his  eyes  fixed 
on  the  ground.  He  was  evidently  tracing  out  in  his  mind 
some  plan  of  action.  None  of  the  hunters  chose  to  inter- 
rupt him. 

"  Comrades !  "  said  he  at  length,  "  this  is  an  unfortunate 
coup,  but  it  could  not  be  avoided.  It  is  well  it  is  no  worse. 
As  it  is,  we  must  alter  our  plans.  They  will  be  sure  to  re- 
turn on  his  track,  and  follow  their  own  trail  back  to  the 
Navajo  towns.  What  then  ?  Our  band  cannot  either  come 
on  to  the  Pinon  or  cross  the  war-trail  at  any  point.  They 
would  discover  our  tracks  to  a  certainty." 

"  Why,  can't  we  go  straight  up  to  whar  the  rest's  cached, 
and  then  take  round  by  the  old  mine  ?  That  won't  interfere 
with  the  war-trail  nohow." 

This  was  proposed  by  one  of  the  hunters. 

"  Vaya  1 "  rejoined  a  Mexican  ;  "  we  should  meet  the 
Navajoes  just  when  we  had  got  to  their  town  !  Carrai  !  that 
would  never  do,  amigo.  There  wouldn't  many  of  us  get 
back  again.     Santissima !     No." 

"  We  ain't  obleeged  to  meet  them,"  argued  the  first  speaker. 
"  They're  not  a-goin'  to  stop  at  thur  town  when  they  find  the 
nigger  hain't  been  back." 

"  It  is  true,"  said  Seguin,  "  they  will  not  remain  there. 
They  will  doubtless  return  on  the  war-trail  again  ;  but  I 
know  the  country  by  the  mine." 

"  So  do  I !     So  do  I !  "  cried  several  voices. 

"  There  is  no  game,"  continued  Seguin.  "  We  have  no 
provisions ;  it  is  therefore  impossible  for  us  to  go  that  way." 

"  We  couldn't  go  it,  no  how." 

"  We  should  starve  before  we  had  got  through  the  Mim- 
bres." 

"  Thar's  no  water  that  way." 

"  No,  by  gosh  1  not  enough  to  make  a  drink  for  a  sand- 
rat." 


BLINDING   THE    PURSUER.  247 

"  We  must  take  our  chances,  then,"  said  Seguin. 

Here  he  paused  thoughtfully,  and  with  a  gloomy  expres- 
sion of  countenance. 

"  We  must  cross  the  trail,"  he  continued,  "  and  go  by  the 
Prieto,  or  abandon  the  expedition." 

The  word  "  Prieto,"  in  opposition  to  the  phrase  "  abandon 
the  expedition,"  put  the  hunters  to  their  wits'  end  for  inven- 
tion, and  plan  after  plan  was  proposed  ;  all,  however,  end- 
ing in  the  probability,  in  fact  certainty,  that  if  adopted,  our 
trail  would  be  discovered  by  the  enemy,  and  followed  up 
before  we  could  escape  back  to  the  Del  Norte.  They  were, 
therefore,  one  after  another  rejected. 

During  all  this  discussion,  old  Rube  had  not  said  a  word. 
The  earless  trapper  was  sitting  upon  the  prairie,  squat  on 
his  hams,  tracing  out  some  lines  with  his  bow,  and  appar- 
ently laying  out  the  plan  of  a  fortification  1 

"  What  are  ye  doin',  old  hoss  ?  "  inquired  one  of  his  com- 
rades. 

"  My  hearin'  ain't  as  good  as  'twur  afore  I  kim  into  this 
cussed  country  ;  but  I  thought  I  heerd  some  o'  'ees  say,  jest 
now,  we  cudn't  cross  the  Pash  trail  'ithout  bein'  followed  in 
two  days.     That's  a  dod-rotted  lie  I     It  are." 

"  How  are  ye  goin'  to  prove  it,  hoss  ?  " 

"  Chut,  man  !  yur  tongue  wags  like  a  beaver's  tail  in  flood- 
time." 

"  Can  you  suggest  any  way  in  which  it  can  be  done, 
Rube  ?     I  confess  I  see  none." 

As  Seguin  made  this  appeal,  all  eyes  were  turned  upon 
the  trapper. 

"  Why,  cap,  I  kin  surgest  my  own  notion  o'  the  thing.  It 
may  be  right,  an'  it  mayn't  be  right ;  but  if  it  wur  follered 
out,  thur'll  be  neither  Pash  nor  Navagh  that'll  smell  where 
we  go  for  a  week.     If  they  diz,  'ee  may  cut  my  ears  off." 

This  was  a  favorite  joke  with  Rube,  and  the  hunters  only 


248  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

laughed.  Seguin  himself  could  not  restrain  a  smile,  as  he 
requested  the  speaker  to  proceed. 

"  Fust  an'  fo'most,  then,"  said  Rube,  "  thur  not  a  gwine 
to  come  arter  that  nigger  in  less  than  two  days." 

"  How  can  you  tell  that !  " 

"  This  way : — 'Ee  see  he's  only  second  chief,  an'  they  kin 
go  on  well  enough  'ithout  him.  But  that  ain't  it.  The  Injun 
forgot  his  bow  :  white  at  that.  Now  'ee  all  knows  as  well 
as  this  child,  that  that's  a  big  disgrace  in  the  eyes  o'  Injuns." 

"  You're  right  about  that,  hoss,  remarked  one. 

"  Wall,  so  the  ole  'coon  thinks.  Now,  'ee  see,  it's  as  plain 
as  Pike's  Peak  that  he  kim  away  back  'ithout  tellin'  any  o' 
the  rest  a  syllabub  about  it.  He'd  not  let  'em  know  if  he  kud 
help  it." 

"  That  is  not  improbable,"  said  Seguin.  "  Proceed,  Rube  !  " 

"  More  'n  that,"  continued  the  trapper,  "  I'll  stake  high 
thet  he  ordered  them  not  to  foller  him,  afeerd  thet  some  on 
'em  mout  see  what  he  kim  for.  If  he'd  'a  thought  they  knew 
or  suspected,  he'd  'a  sent  some  other,  an'  not  kum  himself ; 
that's  what  he'd  'a  done." 

This  was  all  probable  enough ;  and  with  the  knowledge 
which  the  scalp-hunters  possessed  of  the  Navajo  character, 
they  one  and  all  believed  it  to  be  so. 

"  I'm  sartint  they'll  kum  back,"  continued  Rube ;  "  that 
ur  his  half  o'  the  tribe,  anyways ;  but  it'll  be  three  days 
clur,  an'  well  up  till  another,  afore  they  drinks  Peenyun  water." 

"  But  they  would  strike  our  trail  the  day  after." 

"  If  we  wur  green  fools  enough  to  let  'em,  they  wud." 

"  How  can  we  prevent  that  ?  "  asked  Seguin. 

"  Easy  as  fallin'  off  a  log." 

"  How  ?  how  ?  "  inquired  several  at  once. 

"  By  puttin'  them  on  another  scent,  do  'ee  see  ? ' 

"  Yes  1  but  in  what  way  can  we  effect  that  ? "  inquired 
Seguin. 


BLINDING   THE    PURSUER.  249 

"  Why,  cap,  yur  tumble  has  surely  dumfoundered  ye.  I 
wud  think  less  o'  these  other  dummies  not  seein'  at  a  glimp 
how  we  kin  do  it." 

"  I  confess,  Rube,"  replied  Seguin  with  a  smile,  "  I  do  not 
perceive  how  we  can  mislead  them." 

"  Wal,  then,"  continued  the  trapper,  with  a  chuckle  of 
satisfaction  at  his  own  superior  prairie-craft,  "  this  child's  a- 
gwyne  to  tell  'ee  how  'ee  kin  put  them  on  a  track  that'll  jest 
cany  them  hellwards." 

"  Horraw  for  you,  old  hoss  !  " 

"  'Ee  see  a  quiver  on  that  Injun's  back  "  ? 

"  Ay,  ay !  "  cried  several  voices. 

"  It's  full  o'  arrows  or  pretty  near  it,  I  reckin." 

"  It  is.     Well  ?  " 

"  Wal,  then,  let  some  o'  us  ride  the  Injun's  mustang :  any 
other  critter  thet's  got  the  same  track  '11  do ;  away  down 
the  Pash  trail,  an'  stick  them  things  pointin'  south'art :  an' 
if  the  Navagh  don't  travel  that  a-way  till  they  comes  up  with 
the  Pashes,  'ee  may  have  this  child's  har  for  a  plug  o'  the 
wust  Kaintucky  terbaccer. 

"Viva/"  "  He's  right,  he's  right  1 "  "  Hooraw  for  old 
Rube !  "  and  various  exclamations,  were  uttered  by  the 
hunters. 

" 'Tain't  needcessary  for  them  to  know  why  he  shud  'a 
tuk  that  track.  They'll  know  his  arrows  ;  that's  enuf.  By 
the  time  they  gits  back,  with  their  fingers  in  thur  meat-traps, 
we'll  hev  start  enough  to  carry  us  from  h —  to  Hackensack." 

"  Ay,  that  we  will,  by  gollies  !  " 

"The  band,"  continued  Rube,  "needn't  come  to  the 
Peenyun  spring  no  howsomever.  They  kin  cross  the  war- 
trail  higher  up  to  to'rst  the  Heeley,  an'  meet  us  on  t'other 
side  o'  the  mountain,  whur  thur's  a  grist  o'  game,  both  cattle 
an'  buffler.  A  plenty  o'  both  on  the  ole  mission  lands,  I'll 
be  boun\     We'd  hev  to  go  thur  anyways.     Thur's  no  hopes 


250  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

o'  meetin'  the  buffler  this  side,  arter  the  splurry  them  Injuns 
has  gin  them." 

"  That  is  true  enough,"  said  Seguin.  "  We  must  go 
round  the  mountain  before  we  can  expect  to  fall  in  with  the 
buffalo.  The  Indian  hunt  has  chased  them  clean  off  from 
the  Llanos.  Come,  then  !  Let  us  set  about  our  work  at 
once.  We  have  yet  two  hours  before  sunset.  What  would 
you  do  first,  Rube  ?  You  have  given  the  plan  :  I  will  trust 
to  you  for  the  details." 

"  Why,  in  my  opeenyun,  cap,  the  fust  thing  to  be  did  are 
to  send  a  man  as  straight  as  he  can  gallip  to  whur  the 
band's  cached.     Let  him  fotch  them  acrost  the  trail. 

"  Where  should  they  cross,  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  About  twenty  mile  north  o'  hyur  thur's  a  dry  ridge,  an' 
a  good  grist  o'  loose  donicks.  If  they  cross  as  they  oughter, 
they  needn't  make  much  sign.  I  kud  take  a  train  o'  Bent's 
wagons  over,  that  'ud  puzzle  deaf  Smith  to  f oiler  'em.     /kud. 

"  I  will  send  a  man  off  instantly.  Here,  Sanchez  !  you 
have  a  good  horse,  and  know  the  ground.  It  is  not  over 
twenty  miles  to  where  they  are  cached.  Bring  them  along 
the  ridge,  and  with  caution,  as  you  have  heard.  You  will 
find  us  around  the  north  point  of  the  mountain.  You  can 
travel  all  night,  and  be  up  with  us  early  in  the  morning. 
Away !  " 

The  torero,  without  making  any  answer,  drew  his  horse 
from  the  picket,  leaped  into  the  saddle,  and  rode  off  at  a 
gallop  towards  the  northwest. 

"  It  is  fortunate,"  said  Seguin,  looking  after  him  for  some 
moments,  "  that  they  have  trampled  the  ground  about  here, 
else  the  tracks  made  in  our  late  encounter  would  certainly 
have  told  tales  upon  us." 

"  Thur's  no  danger  about  that,"  rejoined  Rube ;  "  but 
when  we  rides  from  hyur,  cap'n  we  mustn't  foller  their  trail. 
They'd  soon  sight  our  back  tracks.     We  had  best  keep  up 


BLINDING  THE   PURSUER.  25 1 

yander  among  the  loose  donicks."  Rube  pointed  to  the 
shingle  that  stretched  north  and  south  along  the  foot  of  the 
mountain. 

"  Yes,  that  shall  be  our  course.  We  can  leave  this  with- 
out leaving  any  tracks.     What  next  ?  " 

"  The  next  idee  are,  to  get  rid  o'  yon  piece  o'  machin'ry," 
and  the  trapper,  as  he  spoke,  nodded  in  the  direction  of 
the  skeleton. 

"  True !  I  had  forgotten  it.     What  shall  we  do  with  it  I " 

"  Bury  it,"  advised  one. 

"  Wagh  !  no.     Burn  it  1  "  cried  another. 

"  Ay,  that's  best,"  said  a  third. 

The  last  suggestion  was  adopted. 

The  skeleton  was  brought  down ;  the  stains  of  the  blood 
were  carefully  rubbed  from  the  rocks  ;  the  skull  was  shivered 
with  a  tomahawk,  and  the  joints  were  broken  in  pieces. 
The  whole  mass  was  then  flung  upon  the  fire,  and  pounded 
down  among  numerous  bones  of  the  buffalo,  already  simmer- 
ing in  the  cinders.  An  anatomist  only  could  have  detected 
the  presence  of  a  human  skeleton. 

"  Now,  Rube  ;  the  arrows  ?  " 

"  If  'ee'll  leave  that  to  me  an'  Bill  Garey,  I  think  them  two 
niggurs  kin  fix  'em  so  as  to  bamfoozle  any  Injuns  thur  is  in 
these  parts.  We'll  hev  to  go  three  mile  or  tharabout ;  but 
we'll  git  back  by  the  time  'ee  hev  filled  yur  gourds,  an'  got 
yur  traps  ready  for  skeetin'." 

"  Very  well !  take  the  arrows." 

"  Four's  gobs  for  us,"  sard  Rube,  taking  that  number 
from  the  quiver.  "  Keep  the  rest.  'Ee'll  want  more  wolf- 
meat  afore  we  start.  Thur's  not  a  tail  o'  anythin'  else  till 
we  git  clur  roun'  the  mountain  yander.  Billee  1  throw 
your  ugly  props  over  that  Navagh  mustang.  Putty  hoss  too  ; 
but  I  wudn't  giv  my  old  mar  far  a  hul  cavayard  o'  him. 
Gi's  a  sprig  o'  the  black  feather." 


252  THE   SCALP- HUNTERS. 

Here  the  old  trapper  drew  one  of  the  ostrich  feathers  out 
of  the  helmet  of  the  Navajo  chief,  and  continued  : — 

"  Boyees !  take  care  o'  the  ole  mar  till  I  kum  back,  an' 
don't  let  her  stampede,  do  'ee  hear.  I  wants  a  blanket. 
Don't  all  speak  at  oncest !  ' 

"  Here,  Rube,  here  !  "  cried  several,  holding  out  their 
blankets. 

"  E'er  a  one  '11  do.  We  needs  three  :  Bill's  an'  mine  an' 
another'n.  Hyur,  Billee  I  take  these  afore  ye.  Now  ride 
down  the  Pash  trail  three  hunred  yards,  or  tharabout,  an' 
then  pull  up.  Don't  take  the  beaten  pad,  but  keep  along- 
side, an'  make  big  tracks.     Gallop,  durn  ye  !  " 

The  young  hunter  laid  his  quirt  to  the  flanks  of  the 
mustang,  and  started  at  full  gallop  along  the  Apache' 
trail. 

When  he  had  ridden  a  distance  of  three  hundred  yards  or 
so,  he  halted  to  wait  for  further  directions  from  his  comrade. 

Old  Rube,  at  the  same  time,  took  an  arrow  ;  and,  fasten- 
ing a  piece  of  ostrich  feather  to  the  barb,  adjusted  it  on 
one  of  the  upright  poles  which  the  Indians  had  left  stand- 
ing on  the  camp-ground.  It  was  placed  in  such  a  manner 
that  the  head  pointed  southward  in  the  direction  of  the 
Apache'  trial,  and  was  so  conspicuous  with  the  black  feather 
that  no  one  coming  in  from  the  Llanos  could  fail  to  see  it. 

This  done  he  followed  his  companion  on  foot,  keeping 
wide  out  from  the  trail,  and  making  his  tracks  with  great 
caution.  On  coming  up  with  Garey,  he  stuck  a  second  ar- 
row in  the  ground  :  its  point  also  inclined  to  the  south,  and 
so  that  it  could  be  seen  from  the  former  one. 

Garey  then  galloped  forward,  keeping  on  the  trail,  while 
Rube  struck  out  again  to  the  open  prairie,  and  advanced  in 
a  line  parallel  to  it. 

Having  ridden  a  distance  of  two  or  three  miles,  Garey 
slackened  his  pace,  and  put  the  mustang  to  a  slow  walk.     A 


BLINDING  THE    PURSUER.  253 

little  further  on  he  again  halted,  and  held  his  horse  at  rest, 
in  the  beaten  path. 

Rube  now  came  up,  and  spread  the  three  blankets  length- 
wise along  the  ground,  and  leading  westward  from  the  trail. 
Garey  dismounted,  and  led  the  animal  gently  on  the  blankets. 

As  its  feet  rested  on  two  at  a  time,  each,  as  it  became  the 
rearmost,  was  taken  up,  and  spread  again  in  front ;  and  this 
was  repeated  until  they  had  got  the  mustang  some  fifty 
lengths  of  himself  out  into  the  prairie.  The  movement  was 
executed  with  an  adroitness  equal  to  that  which  characterized 
the  feat  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 

Garey  now  took  up  the  blankets,  and,  remounting,  com- 
menced riding  slowly  back  by  the  foot  of  the  mountain  ; 
while  Rube  returned  to  the  trail,  and  placed  a  third  arrow 
at  the  point  where  the  mustang  had  parted  from  it.  He 
then  proceeded  south  as  before.  One  more  was  yet  needed 
to  make  doubly  sure. 

When  he  had  gone  about  a  half-a-mile,  we  saw  him  stoop 
over  the  trail,  rise  up  again,  cross  toward  the  mountain  foot, 
and  follow  the  path  taken  by  his  companion.  The  work  was 
done  ;  the  finger-posts  were  set ;  the  ruse  was  complete  ! 

El  Sol,  meanwhile,  had  been  busy.  Several  wolves  were 
killed  and  skinned,  and  the  meat  was  packed  in  their  skins. 
The  gourds  were  filled,  our  captive  was  tied  on  a  mule,  and 
we  stood  waiting  the  return  of  the  trappers. 

Seguin  had  resolved  to  leave  two  men  at  the  spring  as 
videttes.  They  were  to  keep  their  horses  by  the  rocks,  and 
supply  them  with  the  mule-bucket,  so  as  to  make  no  fresh 
tracks  at  the  water.  One  was  to  remain  constantly  on  an 
eminence,  and  watch  the  prairie  with  the  glass.  They  could 
thus  descry  the  returning  Navajoes  in  time  to  escape  unob- 
served themselves  along  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  They 
were  then  to  halt  at  a  place  ten  miles  to  the  north,  where 
they  could  still  have  a  view  of  the  plain.     There  they  were  to 


254 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


remam  until  they  had  ascertained  what  direction  the  Indians 
should  take  after  leaving  the  spring,  when  they  were  to  hurry 
forward  and  join  the  band  with  their  tidings. 

All  these  arrangements  having  been  completed  as  Rube 
and  Garey  came  up,  we  mounted  our  horses  and  rode  by  a 
circuitous  route  for  the  mountain  foot.  When  close  in  we 
found  the  path  strewed  with  loose  cut-rock,  upon  which  the 
hoofs  of  our  animals  left  no  track.  Over  this  we  rode  for- 
ward, heading  to  the  north,  and  keeping  in  a  line  nearly  par- 
allel to  the  "  war-trail." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

A    BUFFALO    "  SURROUND." 

MARCH  of  twenty  miles  brought  us 
to  the  place  where  we  expected  to 
be  joined  by  the  band.  We  found  a 
small  stream  heading  in  the  Pinon 
range,  and  running  westward  to  the 
San  Pedro.  It  was  fringed  with  cot- 
ton-trees and  willows,  .and  with  grass  in  abundance  for  our 
horses.  Here  we  encamped,  kindled  a  fire  in  the  thicket, 
cooked  our  wolf-mutton,  ate  it,  and  went  to  sleep. 

The  band  came  up  in  the  morning,  having  traveled  all 
night.  Their  provisions  were  spent  as  well  as  ours ;  and 
instead  of  resting  our  wearied  animals,  we  pushed  on  through 
a  pass  in  the  sierra  in  hopes  of  finding  game  on  the  other 
side. 

About  noon  we  debouched  through  the  mountain  pass 
into  a  country  of  "  openings  "  :  small  prairies,  bounded  by 
jungly  forests,  and  interspersed  with  timber  "  islands."  These 
prairies  were  covered  with  tall  grass,  and  buffalo  "  signs  w 

255 


256  THE  SCALP-HUNTERS. 

appeared  as  we  rode  into  them.  We  saw  their  "  roads," 
"chips,"  and  "wallows." 

We  saw,  moreover,  the  "  bois dt  vacht  "  of  the  wild  cattle. 
We  would  soon  meet  with  one  or  the  other. 

We  were  still  on  the  stream  by  which  we  had  camped  the 
night  before,  and  we  made  a  "  noon  halt  "  to  refresh  our 
animals. 

The  full-grown  forms  of  the  cacti  were  around  us,  bearing 
red  and  yellow  fruit  in  abundance.  We  plucked  the  pears 
of  the  pitahaya,  and  ate  them  greedily;  we  found  service- 
berries,  yainpa,  and  roots  of  the  pomme  blanche.  We  dined 
on  fruits  and  vegetables  of  various  sorts,  indigenous  only  to 
this  wild  region. 

But  the  stomachs  of  the  hunters  longed  for  their  favorite 
food,  the  "  hump  ribs  "  and  "  boudins  "  of  the  buffalo ;  and 
after  a  halt  of  two  hours,  we  moved  forward  through  the 
openings. 

We  had  ridden  about  an  hour  among  chapparal,  when 
Rube,  who  was  some  paces  in  advance,  acting  as  guide, 
turned  in  his  saddle,  and  pointed  downward. 

"  What's  there,  Rube  ?  "  asked  Seguin,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Fresh  track,  cap'n  :   buffler  1  " 

"  What  number  ;   can  you  guess  ?  " 

"  A  gang  o'  fifty  or  tharabout.  They've  tuk  through  the 
thicket  yander-away.  I  kin  sight  the  sky.  Thur's  clur 
ground  not  fur  from  us  ;  and  I'd  stake  a  plew  thur  in  it.  I 
think  it's  a  small  paraira,  cap." 

"  Halt  here,  men  1  "  said  Seguin  ;  "  halt  and  keep  silent. 
Ride  forward,  Rube.  Come,  M.  Haller,  you're  fond  of 
hunting  ;   come  along  with  us  I  " 

I  followed  the  guide  and  Seguin  through  the  bushes ;  like 
them,  riding  slowly  and  silently. 

In  a  few  minutes  we  reached  the  edge  of  a  prairie  covered 
with  long  grass.     Peering  cautiously  through  the  leaves  of 


A    BUFFALO    "  SURROUND."  257 

the  prosopis,  we  had  a  full  view  of  the  open  ground.  The 
buffaloes  were  on  the  plain  ! 

It  was,  as  Rube  had  rightly  conjectured,  a  small  prairie, 
about  a  mile  and  a  half  in  width,  closed  in  on  all  sides  by  a 
thick  chapparal.  Near  the  center  was  a  motte  of  heavy 
timber,  growing  up  from  a  leafy  underwood.  A  spur  of 
willows  running  out  from  the  timber  indicated  the  presence 
of  water. 

"  Thur's  a  spring  yander,"  muttered  Rube.  "  They've 
jest  been  a-coolin'  thur  noses  at  it." 

This  was  evident  enough,  for  some  of  the  animals  were  at 
the  moment  walking  out  of  the  willows ;  and  we  could  see 
the  wet  clay  glistening  upon  their  flanks,  and  the  saliva 
glancing  down  from  their  jaws. 

"  How  will  we  get  at  them,  Rube  ?  "  asked  Seguin  ;  "  can 
we  approach  them,  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  doubt  not,  cap.  The  grass  'ud  hardly  kiver  us  ;  an' 
thur  a-gwine  out  o'  range  o'  the  bushes." 

"  How  then  ?  We  cannot  run  them  ;  there's  not  room. 
They  would  be  into  the  thicket  at  the  first  dash.  We  would 
lose  every  hoof  of  them." 

"  Sartin  as  Scripter." 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?  " 

"  This  niggur  sees  but  one  other  plan  as  kin  be  used  jest 
at  this  time." 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Surround." 

"  Right ;  if  we  can  do  that.     How  is  the  wind  ?  " 

"  Dead  as  an  Injun  wi'  his  head  cut  off,"  replied  the 
trapper,  taking  a  small  feather  out  of  his  cap  and  tossing  it 
in  the  air.     "  See,  cap,  it  falls  plump  !  " 

"  It  does,  truly." 

"  We  kin  easily  git  roun'  them  bufflers  afore  they  wind  us ; 
an'  we  hev  men  enough  to  make  a  picket  fence  about  them. 
17 


258  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

We  can  hardly  set  about  it  too  soon,  cap.  Thur  a  movin' 
torst  the  edge  yander." 

"  Let  us  divide  the  men,  then,"  said  Seguin,  turning  his 
horse  ;  "  you  can  guide  one-half  of  them  to  their  stands.  I 
will  go  with  the  other.  M.  Haller,  you  had  better  remain 
where  you  are.  It  is  as  good  a  stand  as  you  can  get.  Have 
patience.  It  may  be  an  hour  before  all  are  placed.  When 
you  hear  the  bugle,  you  may  gallop  forward  and  do  your 
best.  If  we  succeed,  you  shall  have  sport  and  a  good  supper ; 
which,  I  suppose,  you  feel  the  need  of  by  this  time." 

So  saying,  Seguin  left  me,  and  rode  back  to  the  men, 
followed  by  old  Rube. 

It  was  their  purpose  to  separate  the  band  into  two  parties, 
each  taking  an  opposite  direction ;  and  to  drop  men  here 
and  there  at  regular  intervals,  around  the  prairie.  They 
would  keep  in  the  thicket  while  on  the  march,  and  only  dis- 
cover themselves  at  a  given  signal.  In  this  way,  should  the 
buffaloes  allow  time  for  the  execution  of  the  movement,  we 
should  be  almost  certain  of  securing  the  whole  gang. 

As  soon  as  Seguin  had  left  me,  I  looked  to  my  rifle  and 
pistols,  putting  on  a  fresh  set  of  caps.  After  that,  having 
nothing  else  to  occupy  me,  I  remained  seated  in  my  saddle, 
eyeing  the  animals  as  they  fed  unconscious  of  danger.  I 
was  full  of  anxiety  lest  some  clumsy  fellow  might  discover 
himself  too  soon,  and  thus  spoil  our  anticipated  sport. 

After  a  while  I  could  see  the  birds  flying  up  from  the 
thicket ;  and  the  screaming  of  the  blue  jay  indicated  to  me 
the  progress  of  the  "  surround." 

Now  and  then,  an  old  bull,  on  the  skirts  of  the  herd, 
would  toss  up  his  shaggy  mane,  snuff  the  wind,  and  strike 
the  ground  fiercely  with  his  hoof ;  evidently  laboring  under 
a  suspicion  that  all  was  not  right. 

The  others  did  not  seem  to  heed  these  demonstrations, 
but  kept  on  quietly  cropping  the  luxuriant  grama. 


A   BUFFALO   "  SURROUND."  259 

I  was  thinking  how  nicely  we  were  going  to  have  them  in 
the  trap,  when  an  object  caught  my  eye,  just  emerging  from 
the  motte.  It  was  a  buffalo  calf,  and  I  saw  that  it  was  pro- 
ceeding to  join  the  gang.  I  thought  it  somewhat  strange 
that  it  should  be  separated  from  the  rest,  for  the  calves, 
trained  by  their  mothers  to  know  the  wolf,  usually  keep  up 
with  the  herd. 

"  It  has  stayed  behind  at  the  spring,"  thought  I.  "  Per- 
haps the  others  pushed  it  from  the  water,  and  it  could  not 
drink  until  they  were  gone." 

I  fancied  that  it  moved  clumsily,  as  if  wounded ;  but  it 
was  passing  through  the  long  grass,  and  I  could  not  get  a 
good  view  of  it. 

There  was  a  pack  of  coyotes  (there  always  is)  sneaking 
after  the  herd.  These,  perceiving  the  calf  as  it  came  out  of 
the  timber,  made  an  instant  and  simultaneous  attack  upon 
it.  I  could  see  them  skipping  around  it,  and  fancied  I  could 
hear  their  fierce  snarling  ;  but  the  calf  appeared  to  fight  its 
way  through  the  thick  of  them ;  and  after  a  short  while,  I 
saw  it  close  in  to  its  companions,  where  I  lost  sight  of  it 
among  the  others. 

"  A  game  young  bull,"  soliloquized  I,  and  again  I  ran  my 
eye  around  the  skirting  of  the  chapparal  to  watch  how  the 
hunters  were  getting  forward  with  the  "  surround,"  I  could 
perceive  the  flashing  of  brilliant  wings  over  the  bramble,  and 
hear  the  shrill  voices  of  the  jay-birds.  Judging  by  these,  I 
concluded  that  the  men  were  moving  slowly  enough.  It  was 
half  an  hour  since  Seguin  had  left  me,  and  I  could  perceive 
that  they  were  not  half-way  round  as  yet. 

I  began  to  make  calculations  as  to  how  long  I  would  have 
to  wait,  soliloquizing  as  follows : — 

"  Diameter  of  the  prairie,  a  mile  and  a  half.  It  is  a  circle 
three  times  that :  four  miles  and  a  half.  Phew  \  I  shall 
not  hear  the  signal  in  much  less  than  an  hour.     I  must  be 


260  THE  SCALP-HUNTERS. 

patient  then,  and what !     The  brutes  are  lying  down  ! 

Good !  There  is  no  danger  now  of  their  making  off.  We 
shall  have  rare  sport !  One,  two,  three,  six  of  them  down ! 
It  must  be  the  heat  and  the  water.  They  have  drunk  two 
much.     There  goes   another.     Lucky  devils !     They  have 

nothing  else  to  do  but  eat  and  sleep,  while  I No.     Eight 

down !  Well !  I  hope  soon  to  eat,  too.  What  an  odd  way 
they  have  of  coming  to  the  ground  !  How  different  from 
anything  of  the  bovine  tribe  I  have  yet  observed  !  I  have 
never  seen  buffaloes  "  quieting  "  down  before.  One  would 
think  that  they  were  falling  as  if  shot !  Two  more  alongside 
the  rest !  They  will  soon  be  all  upon  the  turf.  So  much 
the  better.  We  can  gallop  up  before  they  get  to  their  feet 
again.     Oh,  that  I  could  hear  that  horn  !  " 

And  thus  I  went  on  rambling  from  thought  to  thought, 
and  listening  for  the  signal,  although  I  knew  that  it  could 
not  be  given  for  some  time  yet. 

The  buffaloes  kept  moving  slowly  onward,  browsing  as 
they  went,  and  continuing  to  lie  down  one  after  another.  I 
thought  it  strange,  their  stretching  themselves  thus  succes- 
sively ;  but  I  had  observed  farm  cattle  do  the  same,  and  I 
was  at  that  time  but  little  acquainted  with  the  habits  of  the 
buffalo.  Some  of  them  appeared  to  toss  about  on  the  ground 
and  kick  violently.  I  had  heard  of  a  peculiarity  of  these 
animals,  termed  "  wallowing."  "  They  are  at  it,"  thought  I. 
I  wished  much  to  have  a  clearer  view  of  this  curious  exercise, 
but  the  high  grass  prevented  me.  I  could  only  see  their 
shaggy  shoulders,  and  occasionally  their  hoofs  kicking  up 
over  the  sward. 

I  watched  their  movements  with  great  interest,  now  feeling 
secure  that  the  "  surround  "  would  be  complete  before  they 
would  think  of  rising. 

At  length  the  last  one  of  the  gang  followed  the  example 
of  his  companions,  and  dropped  over. 


A   BUFFALO    "  SURROUND."  261 

They  were  now  all  upon  their  sides,  half  buried  in  the 
bunch-grass.  I  thought  I  noticed  the  calf  still  upon  its  feet ; 
but  at  that  moment  the  bugle  sounded,  and  a  simultaneous 
cheer  broke  from  all  sides  of  the  prairie. 

I  pressed  the  spur  to  my  horse's  flank,  and  dashed  out 
into  the  open  plain.  Fifty  others  had  done  the  same,  yelling 
as  they  shot  out  of  the  thicket. 

With  my  reins  resting  on  my  left  fingers,  and  my  rifle 
thrown  crosswise,  I  galloped  forward,  filled  with  the  wild  ex- 
citement that  such  an  adventure  imparts.  I  was  cocked  and 
ready,  resolved  upon  having  the  first  shot. 

It  was  but  a  short  distance  from  where  I  had  started  to  the 
nearest  buffalo.  I  was  soon  within  range,  my  horse  flying 
like  an  arrow. 

"  Is  the  animal  asleep  ?  I  am  within  ten  paces  of  him, 
and  still  he  stirs  not  !     I  will  fire  at  him  as  he  lies." 

I  raised  my  rifle,  leveled  it,  and  was  about  to  pull  trigger, 
when  something  red  gleamed  before  my  eyes.  It  was 
blood  ! 

I  lowered  the  piece  with  a  feeling  of  terror,  and  com- 
menced dragging  upon  the  rein  ;  but,  before  I  could  pull  up, 
I  was  carried  into  the  the  midst  of  the  prostrate  herd.  Here 
my  horse  suddenly  stopped,  and  I  sat  in  my  saddle  as  if  spell- 
bound. I  was  under  the  influence  of  a  superstitious  awe. 
Blood  was  before  me  and  around  me.  Turn  which  way  I 
would,  my  eye  rested  upon  blood  ! 

My  comrades  closed  in,  yelling  as  they  came ;  but  their 
yelling  suddenly  ceased,  and  one  by  one  reined  up,  as  I  had 
done,  with  looks  of  consternation  and  wonder. 

It  was  not  strange,  at  such  a  sight.  Before  us  lay  the 
bodies  of  the  buffaloes.  They  were  all  dead,  or  quivering 
in  the  last  throes.  Each  had  a  wound  above  the  brisket,  and 
from  this  the  red  stream  gurgled  out,  and  trickled  down  their 
still  panting  sides.     Blood  welled  from  their  mouths  and  out 


262  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

of  their  nostrils.  Pools  of  it  were  filtering  through  the 
prairie  turf  ;  and  clotted  gouts,  flung  out  by  the  struggling 
hoof,  sprinkled  the  grass  around  them ! 

"  Oh  heavens  !  what  could  it  mean  ?  " 

"  Wagh  !  "  "  Satitissima  /"  "  Sacr'e  Dieu  /"  were  the 
exclamations  of  the  hunters. 

"  Surely  no  mortal  hand  has  done  this  ? " 

"  It  w'an't  nuthin'  else,"  cried  a  well-known  voice,  "  ef  yur 
call  an  Injun  a  mortal.  'Twur  a  red-skin,  and  this  child — 
Look  'ee-e !  " 

I  heard  the  click  of  a  rifle  along  with  this  abrupt  excla- 
mation. I  turned  suddenly.  Rube  was  in  the  act  of  leveling 
his  piece.  My  eye  involuntarily  followed  the  direction 
of  the  barrel.  There  was  an  object  moving  in  the  long 
grass. 

"  A  buffalo  that  still  kicks,"  thought  I,  as  I  saw  the  mass 
of  dark-brown  hair  ;  "  he  is  going  to  finish  him  ;  it  is  the 
calf !  " 

I  had  scarcely  reared  made  the  observation  when  the  ani- 
mal reared  up  on  its  hind  legs,  uttering  a  wild  human  scream  ; 
the  shaggy  hide  was  flung  off ;  and  a  naked  savage  appeared, 
holding  out  his  arms  in  an  attitude  of  supplication. 

I  could  not  have  saved  him.  The  rifle  had  cracked,  the 
ball  had  sped.  I  saw  it  piercing  his  brown  breast,  as  a  drop 
of  sleet  strikes  upon  the  pane  of  glass  ;  the  red  spout  gushed 
forth,  and  the  victim  fell  forward  upon  the  body  of  one  of  the 
animals ! 

"  Wagh  !  Rube  !  "  exclaimed  one  of  the  men  ;  "  why 
didn't  ye  give  him  time  to  skin  the  meat !  He  mout  as  well 
'a  done  that  when  he  wur  about  it ;  "  and  the  man  laughed  at 
his  savage  jest. 

"  Look  'ee  hyur,  boyees  !  "  said  Rube,  pointing  to  the  motte  ; 
"  if  'ee  look  sharp,  yur  mout  scare  up  another  calf  yander- 
away  !     I'm  a-gwine  to  see  arter  this  Injun's  har ;  /"am." 


A   BUFFALO    "  SURROUND."  263 

The  hunters  at  the  suggestion  galloped  off  to  surround  the 
motte. 

I  felt  a  degree  of  irresolution  and  disgust  at  this  cool  shed- 
ding of  blood.  I  drew  my  rein  almost  involuntarily,  and 
moved  forward  to  the  spot  where  the  savage  had  fallen.  He 
lay  back  uppermost.  He  was  naked  to  the  breech-clout. 
There  was  the  debouchure  of  a  bullet  below  the  left  shoulder, 
and  the  black-red  stream  was  trickling  down  his  ribs.  The 
limbs  still  quivered,  but  it  was  in  the  last  spasms  of  parting  life. 

The  hide  in  which  he  had  disguised  himself  lay  piled  up 
where  it  had  been  flung.  Beside  it  were  a  bow  and  several 
arrows.  The  latter  were  crimsoned  to  the  notch,  the  feathers 
steeped  in  blood  and  and  clinging  to  the  shafts.  They  had 
pierced  the  huge  bodies  of  the  animals,  passing  through, 
and  through.     Each  arrow  had  taken  many  lives  ! 

The  old  trapper  rode  up  to  the  corpse,  and  leisurely  dis- 
mounted from  his  mare. 

"  Fifty  dollar  a  plew!  "  he  muttered,  unsheathing  his  knife 
and  stooping  over  the  body.  "  It's  more'n  I  got  for  my  own. 
It  beats  beaver  all  hollow.  Cuss  beaver,  say  this  child. 
Plew  a  plug — ain't  worth  trappin'  if  the  varmint  wur  as  thick 
as  grass-jumpers  in  calf-time.  Ee-up,  niggur,"  he  continued, 
grasping  the  long  hair  of  the  savage,  and  holding  the  face 
upward :  "  let's  get  a  squint  at  yur  phisog.  Hooraw  I 
Coyote  Pash  !  Hooraw  !  " 

And  a  gleam  of  triumph  lit  up  the  countenance  of  the  old 
man  as  he  uttered  these  wild  exclamations. 

"Apash,  is  he?"  asked  one  of  the  hunters,  who  had 
remained  near  the  spot. 

"  That  he  are,  Coyote  Pash.  The  very  niggurs  that  bob- 
tailed  this  child's  ears,  d n  'em  !     I  kin  swar  to  thur  ugly 

picters  anywhur  I  get  my  peepers  upon  'em.  Wouwough — 
ole  wolfy  !  got  'ee  at  last,  has  he  ?  Yur  a  beauty,  an'  no 
mistake." 


264 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


So  saying,  he  gathered  the  long  crownlocks  in  his  left  hand ; 
and  with  two  slashes  of  his  knife,  held  quarte  and  tierce,  he 
cut  a  circle  around  the  top  of  the  head,  as  perfect  as  if  it  had 
been  traced  by  compasses.  He  then  took  a  turn  of  the  hair 
over  his  wrist,  giving  it  a  quick  jerk  outward.  At  the  same 
instant,  the  keen  blade  passed  under  the  skin,  and  the  scalp 
was  taken  ! 

"  Counts  six,"  he  continued,  muttering  to  himself  while 
placing  the  scalp  in  his  belt ;  "six  at  fifty — three  hunder 
shiners  for  Pash  har  :  cuss  beaver  trappin'  !  says  I." 

Having  secured  the  bleeding  trophy,  he  wiped  his  knife 
upon  the  hair  of  one  of  the  buffaloes,  and  proceeded  to  cut  a 
small  notch  in  the  woodwork  of  his  gun,  alongside  five  others 
that  had  been  carved  there  already.  These  six  notches  stood 
for  Apaches  only  ;  for  as  my  eye  wandered  along  the  outlines 
of  the  piece,  I  saw  that  there  were  many  other  columns  in 
that  terrible  register  I 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


ANOTHER    "  COUP." 


SHOT  ringing  in  my 
ears  caused  me  to  with- 
draw my  attention  from 
the  proceedings  of  the 
earless  trapper.  As  I  turned  I 
saw  a  blue  cloud  floating  away 
over  the  prairie,  but  I  could  not 
tell  at  what  the  shot  had  been  fired. 
Thirty  or  forty  of  the  hunters,  had 
surrounded  the  motte,  and,  halted, 
were  sitting  in  their  saddles  in  a 
kind  of  irregular  circle.  They 
were  still  at  some  distance  from 
the  timber,  as  if  keeping  out  of  arrow-range.  They  held 
their  guns  crosswise,  and  were  shouting  to  one  another. 

It  was  improbable  that  the  savage  was  alone ;  doubtless 
there  were  some  of  his  companions  in  the  thicket.     There 

265 


266  THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 

could  not  be  many,  however,  for  the  underwood  was  not 
large  enough  to  conceal  more  than  a  dozen  bodies,  and  the 
keen  eyes  of  the  hunters  were  piercing  it  in  every  direction. 

They  reminded  me  of  so  many  huntsmen  in  a  gorse  wait- 
ing the  game  to  be  sprung ;  but  here,  Oh  God !  the  game 
was  human. 

It  was  a  terrible  spectacle.  I  looked  towards  Seguin, 
thinking  that  he  might  interfere  to  prevent  the  barbarous 
battue.  He  noticed  my  inquiring  glance,  and  turned  his  face 
from  me.  I  fancied  that  he  felt  ashamed  of  the  work  in 
which  his  followers  were  engaged  ;  but  the  killing,  or  capture, 
of  whatever  Indians  might  be  in  the  motte  had  now  become 
a  necessary  measure,  and  I  knew  that  any  remonstrance  of 
mine  would  be  disregarded.  As  for  the  men  themselves, 
they  would  have  laughed  at  it.  This  was  their  pastime,  their 
profession  ;  and  I  am  certain  that,  at  that  moment,  their  feel- 
ings were  not  very  different  from  those  which  would  have 
actuated  them  had  they  been  driving  a  bear  from  his  den. 
They  were,  perhaps,  a  trifle  more  intense  ;  certainly  not 
more  inclined  towards  mercy. 

I  reined  up  my  horse,  and  awaited  with  painful  emotions 
the  denouement  of  this  savage  drama. 

"  Vaya,  Irlandes  !  What  did  you  see  ?  "  inquired  one  of 
the  Mexicans,  appealing  to  Barney.  I  saw  by  this  that  it 
was  the  Irishman  who  had  fired  the  shot. 

"  A  rid-skin,  by  japers  !  "  replied  the  latter. 

"  Warn't  it  yer  own  shadder  ye  sighted  in  the  water  ?  " 
cried  a  hunter,  jeeringly. 

"  Maybe  it  was  the  divil,  Barney  ?  " 

"  In  trath,  frinds,  I  saw  a  somethin'  that  looked  mighty 
like  him,  and  I  kilt  it  too." 

"  Ha !  ha  !     Barney  has  killed  the  devil.     Ha  !  ha !  " 

"  Wagh  !  "  exclaimed  a  trapper,  spurring  his  horse  toward 
the  thicket ;  "  the  fool  saw  nothin'.     I'll  chance  it,  anyhow." 


ANOTHER    "  COUP."  267 

"  Stop,  comrade  !  "  cried  the  hunter  Garey  ;  "  let's  take 
a  safer  plan.  Redhead's  right.  Thar's  Injuns  in  them 
bushes,  whether  he  seen  it  or  not ;  that  skunk  warn't  by  him- 
self, I  reckin  ;  try  this-a-way  !  " 

The  young  trapper  dismounted,  and  turned  his  horse  broad- 
side to  the  bushes.  Keeping  on  the  outside,  he  commenced 
walking  the  animal  in  a  spiral  ring  that  gradually  closed  in 
upon  the  clump.  In  this  way  his  body  was  screened  ;  and  his 
head  only  could  be  seen  above  the  pommel  of  his  saddle, 
over  which  he  rested  his  rifle,  cocked  and  ready. 

Several  others,  observing  this  movement  on  the  part  of 
Garey,  dismounted,  and  followed  his  example. 

A  deep  silence  prevailed  as  they  narrowed  the  diameters 
of  their  circling  courses. 

In  a  short  time  they  were  close  in  to  the  motte,  yet  still  no 
arrow  whizzed  out.  Was  there  no  one  there  ?  So  it  seemed  ; 
and  the  men  pushed  fearlessly  into  the  thicket. 

I  watched  all  this  with  excited  feelings.  I  began  to  hope 
there  was  no  one  in  the  bushes.  I  listened  to  every  sound ; 
I  heard  the  snapping  of  the  twigs  and  the  muttering  of  the 
men.  There  was  a  moment's  silence  as  they  pushed  eagerly 
forward. 

Then  I  heard  a  sudden  exclamation,  and  a  voice  calling 
out — 

"  Dead  red-skin  !     Hurrah  for  Barney  !  " 

"  Barney's  bullet  through  him,  by  the  holies !  "  cried  an- 
other. "  Hilloa,  old  sky-blue !  Come  hyar  and  see  what 
ye've  done  !  " 

The  rest  of  the  hunters,  along  with  the  ci-devant  soldier, 
now  rode  forward  to  the  copse.  I  moved  slowly  after.  On 
coming  up,  I  saw  them  dragging  the  body  of  an  Indian  into 
the  open  ground :  a  naked  savage,  like  the  other.  He  was 
dead,  and  they  were  preparing  to  scalp  him. 

"  Come  now,  Barney  !  "  cried  one  of  the  men  in  a  joking 


268  THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 

manner,  "the  har's  your'n.  Why  don't  ye  off  wid  it, 
man  ?" 

"It's  moine,  dev  yez  say?  "  asked  Barney,  appealing  to 
the  speaker. 

"  Sartinly  ;  you  killed  him.     It's  your'n  by  right." 

"  An'  is  it  raaly  worth  fifty  dollars  ?  " 

"  Good  as  wheat  for  that." 

"  Would  yez  be  so  frindly,  thin,  as  to  cut  it  aff  for  me  ?  " 

"  Oh  I  sartinly,  with  all  the  plizyer  of  life,"  replied  the 
hunter,  imitating  Barney's  accent,  at  the  same  time  severing 
the  scalp,  and  handing  it  to  him. 

Barney  took  the  hideous  trophy,  and  I  fancy  that  he  did 
not  feel  very  proud  of  it.  Poor  Celt !  he  may  have  been 
guilty  of  many  a  breach  in  the  laws  of  garrison  discipline, 
but  it  was  evident  that  this  was  his  first  lesson  in  the  letting 
of  human  blood. 

The  hunters  now  dismounted,  and  commenced  trampling 
the  thicket  through  and  through.  The  search  was  most 
minute,  for  there  was  still  a  mystery.  An  extra  bow — that 
is  to  say,  a  third — had  been  found,  with  its  quiver  of  arrows. 
Where  was  the  owner  ?  Could  he  have  escaped  from  the 
thicket  while  the  men  were  engaged  around  the  fallen  buffa- 
loes ?  He  might,  though  it  was  barely  probable  :  but  the 
hunters  knew  that  these  savages  run  more  like  wild  animals, 
like  hares,  than  human  beings,  and  he  might  have  escaped 
to  the  chapparal. 

"  If  that  Injun  has  got  clar,"  said  Garey,  "  we've  no  time 
to  lose  in  skinnin'  them  bufflers.  Thar's  plenty  o'  his  tribe 
not  twenty  miles  from  hyar,  I  calc'late." 

"  Look  down  among  the  willows  there  !  "  cried  the  voice 
of  the  chief ;  "  close  down  to  the  water." 

There  was  a  pool.  It  was  turbid  and  trampled  around  the 
edges  with  buffalo  tracks.  On  one  side  it  was  deep.  Here 
willows  dropped  over  and  hung  into  the  water.     Several  men 


ANOTHER    "  COUP."  269 

pressed  into  this  side,  and  commenced  sounding  the  bottom 
with  their  lances  and  the  butts  of  their  rifles. 

Old  Rube  had  come  up  among  the  rest,  and  was  drawing 
the  stopper  of  his  powder-horn  with  his  teeth,  apparently 
with  the  intention  of  reloading.  His  small  dark  eyes  were 
scintillating  every  way  at  once  :  above,  around  him,  and  into 
the  water. 

A  sudden  thought  seemed  to  enter  his  head.  I  saw  him 
push  back  the  plug,  grasp  the  Irishman,  who  was  nearest 
him,  by  the  arm,  and  mutter,  in  a  low  and  hurried  voice, 
"  Paddy  !  Barney  !  gi'  us  yur  gun  :  quick,  man,  quick  1  " 

Barney,  at  this  earnest  solicitation,  immediately  surren- 
dered his  piece,  taking  the  empty  rifle  that  was  thrust  into  his 
hand  by  the  trapper. 

Rube  eagerly  grasped  the  musket,  and  stood  for  a  moment 
as  if  he  was  about  to  fire  at  some  object  in  the  pond.  Sud- 
denly he  jerked  his  body  round,  and,  poising  the  gun  up- 
ward, fired  into  the  thick  foliage. 

A  shrill  scream  followed ;  a  heavy  body  came  crashing 
through  the  branches,  and  struck  the  ground  at  my  feet. 
Warm  drops  sparkled  into  my  eyes,  causing  me  to  wince. 
It  was  blood  !  I  was  blinded  with  it ;  I  rubbed  my  eyes  to 
clear  them.  I  heard  men  rushing  from  all  parts  of  the  thicket. 
When  I  could  see  again,  a  naked  savage  was  just  disappear- 
ing through  the  leaves. 

"  Missed  him,  by  gosh  !  "  cried  the  trapper.  "  To  the 
devil  wi'  yur  sodger  gun  !  "  he  added,  flinging  down  the 
musket,  and  rushing  after  with  his  drawn  knife. 

I  followed  among  the  rest.  I  heard  several  shots  as  we 
scrambled  through  the  brushwood. 

When  I  had  got  to  the  outer  edge  I  could  see  the  Indian 
still  on  his  feet,  and  running  with  the  speed  of  an  antelope. 
He  did  not  keep  in  a  direct  line,  but  zigzag,  leaping  from 
side  to  side,  in  order  to  baffle  the  aim  of  his  pursuers,  whose 


270  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

rifles  were  all  the  time  ringing  behind  him.  As  yet  none  of 
their  bullets  had  taken  effect,  at  least  so  as  to  cripple  him. 
There  was  a  streak  of  blood  visible  on  his  brown  body,  but 
the  wound,  wherever  it  was,  did  not  seem  to  hinder  him  in 
his  flight. 

I  thought  there  could  be  no  chance  of  his  escape,  and  I 
had  no  intention  of  emptying  my  gun  at  such  a  mark.  I  re- 
mained, therefore,  among  the  bushes,  screening  myself  be- 
hind the  leaves  and  watching  the  chase. 

Some  of  the  hunters  continued  to  follow  him  on  foot,  while 
the  more  cunning  ones  rushed  back  for  their  horses.  These 
happened  to  be  all  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  thicket  with 
one  exception,  and  that  was  the  mare  of  the  trapper  Rube. 
She  was  browsing  where  Rube  had  dismounted,  out  among 
the  slaughtered  buffaloes,  and  directly  in  the  line  of  the 
chase. 

As  the  savage  approached  her,  a  sudden  thought  seemed 
to  strike  him,  and,  diverging  slightly  from  his  course,  he 
plucked  up  the  picket-pin,  coiled  the  lasso  with  the  dexterity 
of  a  gaucho,  and  sprang  upon  the  animal's  back. 

It  was  a  well-conceived  idea,  but  unfortunate  for  the 
Indian.  He  had  scarcely  touched  the  saddle  when  a  pecul- 
iar shout  was  heard  above  all  other  sounds.  It  was  a  call 
uttered  in  the  voice  of  the  earless  trapper.  The  mustang 
recognized  it ;  and,  instead  of  running  forward  obedient  to 
the  guidance  of  her  rider,  she  wheeled  suddenly  and  came 
galloping  back.  At  this  moment  a  shot  fired  at  the  savage 
scorched  her  hip,  and,  setting  back  her  ears,  she  commenced 
squealing  and  kicking  so  violently  that  all  her  feet  seemed 
to  be  in  the  air  at  the  same  time. 

The  Indian  now  endeavored  to  fling  himself  from  the 
saddle ;  but  the  alternate  plunging  of  the  fore  and  hind 
quarters  kept  him  for  some  moments  tossing  in  a  sort  of 
balance,     He  was  at  length  pitched  outward,  and  fell  to  the 


ANOTHER    "  COUP."  2^1 

ground  upon  his  back.  Before  he  could  recover  himself  a 
Mexican  had  ridden  up,  and  with  his  long  lance  pinned  him 
to  the  earth. 

A  scene  of  swearing  followed,  in  which  Rube  played  the 
principal  character ;  in  fact,  had  "  the  stage  to  himself." 
"  Sodger  guns  "  were  sent  to  perdition  ;  and  as  the  old  trapper 
was  angry  about  the  wound  which  his  mare  had  received, 
"  crook-eyed  greenhorns  "  came  in  for  a  share  of  his  anathe- 
mas. The  mustang,  however,  had  sustained,  no  serious  dam- 
age ;  and  after  this  was  ascertained  the  emphatic  ebullitions 
of  her  master's  anger  subsided  into  a  low  growling,  and  then 
ceased  altogether. 

As  there  appeared  no  "  sign  "  that  there  were  other  savages 
in  the  neighborhood,  the  next  concern  of  the  hunters  was  to 
satisfy  their  hunger.  Fires  were  soon  kindled,  and  a  plen- 
teous repast  of  buffalo  meat  produced  the  desired  effect. 

After  the  meal  was  ended  a  consultation  was  held.  It  was 
agreed  that  we  should  move  forward  to  the  old  mission, 
which  was  known  to  be  not  over  ten  miles  distant.  We  could 
there  defend  ourselves  in  case  of  an  attack  from  the  tribe  of 
Coyoteros,  to  which  the  three  savages  belonged.  It  was 
feared  by  all  that  these  might  strike  our  trail,  and  come  up 
with  us  before  we  could  take  our  departure  from  the  ruin. 

The  buffaloes  were  speedily  skinned  and  packed,  and  tak- 
ing a  westerly  course,  we  journeyed  on  to  the  mission. 


^ 


Mexican  Tortoise  and  Rattlesnake 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 


A    BITTER    TRAP. 


E  reached  the  ruin  a  little  after  sunset. 
We  frightened  the  owl  and  the  wolf, 
and  made  our  bivouac  among  the 
crumbling  walls.  Our  horses  were 
picketed  upon  the  deserted  lawns,  and 
in  the  long  neglected  orchards,  where 
the  ripe  fruit  was  raining  down  its 
ungathered  showers.  Fires  were  kin- 
dled, lighting  the  gray  pile  with  their 
cheerful  blazing  ;  and  joints  of  meats  were  taken  out  of 
the  hide  packs  and  roasted  for  supper. 

There  was  water  in  abundance.  A  branch  of  the  San 
Pedro  swept  past  the  walls  of  the  mission.  There  were  yams 
in  the  spoliated  gardens ;  there  were  grapes,  and  pomegra- 
nates, and  quinces,  and  melons,  and  pears,  and  peaches,  and 
apples  ;  and  with  all  these  was  our  repast  garnished. 

It  was  soon  over,  and  videttes  were  thrown   out  on  the 
tracks  that  led  to  the  ruin.     The  men  were  weak  and  weary 
272 


A    BITTER   TRAP.  273 

with  their  late  fasting,  and  in  a  short  while  stretched  them- 
selves by  their  saddles  and  slept. 

So  much  for  our  first  night  at  the  mission  of  San  Pedro. 

We  were  to  remain  for  three  days,  or  until  the  buffalo  meat 
should  be  dried  for  packing. 

****** 

They  were  irksome  days  to  me.  Idleness  displayed  the 
bad  qualities  of  my  half-savage  associates.  The  ribald  jest 
and  fearful  oath  rang  continually  in  my  ears,  until  I  was 
fain  to  wander  off  to  the  woods  with  the  old  botanist,  who, 
during  these  three  days,  reveled  in  the  happy  excitement  of 
discovery. 

I  found  companionship  also  in  the  Maricopa.  This  strange 
man  had  studied  science  deeply,  and  was  conversant  with 
almost  every  noted  author.  He  was  reserved  only  when  I 
wished  him  to  talk  of  himself. 

Seguin  during  these  days  was  taciturn  and  lonely.  He 
took  but  little  heed  of  what  was  going  on  around  him.  He 
seemed  to  be  suffering  from  impatience,  as  every  now  and 
then  he  paid  a  visit  to  the  tasajo.  He  passed  many  hours 
upon  the  adjacent  heights,  looking  anxiously  towards  the 
east :  that  point  whence  our  spies  would  come  in  from  the 
Pinon. 

There  was  an  azotea  on  the  ruin.  I  was  in  the  habit  of 
seeking  this  place  at  evening  after  the  sun  had  grown  less 
fervid.  It  afforded  a  fine  prospect  of  the  valley  ;  but  its  chief 
attraction  to  me  lay  in  the  retirement  I  could  there  obtain. 
The  hunters  rarely  climbed  up  to  it,  and  their  wild  and 
licensed  converse  was  unheard  for  the  time.  I  used  to  spread 
my  blanket  among  the  crumbling  parapets,  and  stretched  up- 
on it,  deliver  myself  up  to  the  sweet  retrospect,  or  to  still 
sweeter  dreams  that  my  fancy  outlined  upon  the  future. 
There  was  one  object  on  my  memory  :  upon  that  object  only 
did  my  hopes  dwell. 
18 


274  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

I  need  not  make  this  declaration  ;  at  least  to  those  who 
have  truly  loved. 

#  #  =*  #  #  * 

I  am  in  my  favorite  place,  on  the  azotea.  It  is  night,  yet 
scarcely  seems  so.  The  moon,  full-orbed,  autumnal,  is  sweep- 
ing up  towards  the  zenith,  outlined  against  a  heaven  of  cloud- 
less blue.  In  mine  own  far  land  she  will  be  the  harvest  moon. 
Here  she  shines  not  on  the  harvest,  nor  lights  the  reaper 
home ;  but  the  season,  fair  in  all  climes,  is  not  less  lovely  in 
this  romantic  wilderness.  I  am  on  a  table  of  the  northern 
Andes  and  many  thousand  feet  above  the  ocean  level.  The 
air  is  thin  and  dry.  I  can  perceive  its  extreme  tenuity  by 
the  greater  distinctness  of  objects,  the  apparent  propinquity 
of  mountains  that  I  know  to  be  distant,  and  the  sharp 
ness  of  their  outlines  against  the  sky.  I  can  perceive  it  in 
the  absence  of  extreme  heat,  in  the  buoyancy  of  my  blood 
and  the  lighter  play  of  my  lungs.  Ah  !  this  is  the  home  for 
the  hectic  cheek  and  the  hollow  eye.  Would  that  nations 
would  know  this  ! 

The  air  is  vaporless  and  filled  with  the  milky  moonlight. 
My  eye  rests  upon  curious  objects :  upon  forms  of  vegeta- 
tion peculiar  to  the  soil.  They  interest  me  with  their  new- 
ness. Under  the  white  light,  I  see  the  lanceolate  leaves  of 
the  yucca,  the  tall  columns  of  the  pitahaya,  and  the  jaggy 
frondage  of  the  cochineal  cactus. 

There  are  sounds  upon  the  air,  the  noises  of  the  camp,  of 
men  and  animals  ;  but,  thank  heaven  !  I  can  only  hear  their 
distant  hum.  There  is  another  voice  more  pleasing  to  my 
ear.  It  is  the  song  of  the  mocking-bird  ;  the  nightingale  of 
the  western  world.  He  pours  his  mimic  notes  from  the  top  of 
an  adjacent  tree  :  he  is  filling  the  air  with  his  dulcet  melody. 

The  moon  is  over  all,and  I  watch  her  in  her  upward  course. 
There  is  a  thought  within  me  which  she  seems  to  rule :  love  ! 
How  often  have  poets  sung  of  her  power  over  the  gentle 


A   BITTER   TRAP.  275 

passion  !  With  them  it  was  only  a  fancy,  a  graceful  expres- 
sion ;  but  in  all  times,  and  in  all  climes,  it  has  been  a  belief. 
Whence  comes  this  belief  ?  Has  it  not  been  communicated 
in  the  whisperings  of  a  God ;  the  same  whisperings  that  tell 
us  of  His  own  existence  ?  May  not  it  be  a  truth  ?  May  not 
mind  in  the  end  prove  to  be  the  matter,  electric  fluid  ?  If 
so,  why  not  influenced  by  the  silent  moon  ?  Why  not  have 
its  tides,  as  well  as  the  air  and  the  ocean  ? 

It  is  hard  to  yield  up  our  college  metaphysics  ;  to  behold 
the  worshiped  men  of  our  wrangling  days,  Stewart,  Brown, 
Locke,  Mill,  and  him  of  my  own  name,  become  degraded  un- 
der modern  light ;  to  see  their  elaborate  structure,  like  an  in- 
verted pyramid,  about  to  tumble  down,  because  the  apex  on 
which  it  so  long  balanced  itself  turns  out  to  be  a  false  foun- 
dation. It  is  sad  to  look  upon  shelves  filled  with  ponderous 
tomes,  the  very  existence  of  which  only  proves  that  our  fathers 
were  our  children,  as  we  in  our  time  must  become  the  chil- 
dren of  our  descendants.  It  is  sad  to  think  that  so  many 
profound  philosophers  shall  one  day  receive  credit  only  for 
their  hair-splitting  ingenuity.     So  shall  it  be. 

I  followed  this  train  of  thought  as  I  lay  drinking  in  the 
milky  essence  of  the  moon.  I  dwelt  on  the  scenes  suggested 
by  the  ruins  around  me :  the  deeds  and  the  misdeeds  of 
cowled  padres  and  their  sandaled  serfs.  Thoughts  of  these 
were  in  my  mind,  tinging  my  spirit  with  the  romance  of  the 
antique,  but  they  did  not  long  remain  objects  of  reflection. 
I  wandered  over  them  and  returned  again  to  think  of  that 
fair  being  so  lately  loved  and  left :  Zoe,  beautiful  Zoe  ! 

Of  her  I  had  many  thoughts.  Was  she  thinking  of  me  at 
the  moment  ?  Was  she  pained  by  my  absence  ?  Did  she 
watch  for  my  return  ?  Were  her  eyes  bedewed  as  she  looked 
from  the  lonely  terrace  ? 

My  heart  answered  "  Yes."  with  proud  and  happy  pulsa- 
tions. 


276  THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 

The  horrid  scenes  I  was  now  enduring  for  her  sake,  how 
long  until  they  would  be  over  ?  Days,  many  days,  I  feared. 
I  love  adventure  :  my  life  has  been  its  sport ;  but  such  as 

this  was !     I  had  not  yet  committed  crime,  though  I  had 

countenanced  its  committal  by  the  necessity  under  which  I 
had  placed  myself.  How  long  before  this  necessity  might 
force  me  into  the  enacting  of  deeds  dark  as  those  of  the  men 
who  surrounded  me  ? 

In  the  program  placed  before  me  by  Seguin,  I  had  not 
bargained  for  such  wanton  cruelties  as  I  was  now  compelled 
to  witness.  It  was  not  the  time  to  look  back,  but  forward, 
and  perhaps  over  other  scenes  of  blood  and  brutality,  to 
that  happier  hour,  when  I  should  have  redeemed  my  promise 
and  won  the  prize,  beautiful  Z6e. 

My  reverie  was  interrupted.  I  heard  voices  and  footsteps  : 
they  were  approaching  the  spot  where  I  lay.  I  could  see 
that  there  were  two  men  engaged  in  an  earnest  conversation. 
They  did  not  notice  me,  as  I  was  behind  some  fragments  of 
the  broken  parapet,  and  in  the  shadow.  As  they  drew  nearer 
I  recognized  the  patois  of  my  Canadian  follower,  and  that  of 
his  companion  was  not  to  be  mistaken.  The  brogue  was 
Barney's,  beyond  a  doubt. 

These  worthies,  I  had  lately  noticed,  had  become  "as 
thick  as  two  thieves,"  and  were  much  in  each  other's  com- 
pany. Some  act  of  kindness  had  endeared  the  "  infantry  "  to 
his  more  astute  and  experienced  associate,  who  had  taken 
him  under  "  his  patronage  and  protection." 

I  was  vexed  at  the  intrusion ;  but  prompted  by  some  im- 
pulse of  curiosity,  I  lay  still  and  listened. 

Barney  was  speaking  as  they  approached. 

"  In  trath,  Misther  Gowdey,  an'  its  meself  'ud  go  far  this 
blissed  night  for  a  dhrap  o'  the  crayter.  I  noticed  the  little 
kig  afore  j  but  divil  resave  me  av  I  thought  it  was  anythin' 


A    BITTER   TRAP. 


277 


barrin'  cowld  water.  Vistment !  only  think  o'  the  owld 
Dutch  sinner  bringin'  a  whole  kig  wid  'im,  an'  keepin'  it  all 
to  himself.     Yez  are  sure  now  it's  the  stuff  ?  " 

"  Oui !  oui !     C'est  liqueur  !  aguardiente.'''' 

"  Agwardenty  ye  say,  div  ye  ?  " 

"  Oui !  c'est  vrai,  Monsieur  Barney.  I  have  him  smell,  ver 
many  time.    It  is  of  stink  tres  fort :  cussed  strong  !  tres  good  1 " 


Molding  Sun-dried  Brick  for  Adobe  House. 


"  But  why  cudn't  ye  stale  it  yerself  ?  Yez  know  exactly 
where  the  doctor  keeps  it,  an'  ye  might  get  at  it  a  hape 
handier  than  I  can." 

"  Pourquois,  Barney  ?  pecause,  mon  ami,  I  help  pack  les 
possibles  of  Monsieur  le  Docteur.  Pardieu !  he  would  me 
suspect." 

"  I  don't  see  the  raizon  clear.  He  may  suspect  ye  at  all 
evints.     How  thin  ?  " 


278  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  Ah !  then,  n'importe.  I  sail  make  von  grand  swear, 
No!     I  sail  have  ver  clear  conscience  then." 

"  Be  the  powers  !  we  must  get  the  licker  anyhow ;  av  you 
won't,  Misther  Gowdey,  /will ;  that's  said,  isn't  it? " 

"  Oui  1    Tres  bien  !  " 

"  Well,  thin,  now  or  niver's  the  time.  The  ould  fellow's 
just  walked  out,  for  I  saw  him  meself.  This  is  a  nate  place 
to  drink  it  in.  Come  an'  show  me  where  he  keeps  it ;  and,, 
by  St.  Patrick  1  I'm  yer  man  to  hook  it." 

"  Tres  bien  !  allons  1     Monsieur  Barney,  allons  I  " 

Unintelligible  as  this  conversation  may  appear,  I  under- 
stood every  word  of  it.  The  naturalist  had  brought  among 
his  packs  a  small  keg  of  aguardiente,  mezcal  spirits,  for  the 
purpose  of  preserving  any  new  species  of  the  lizard  or  snake 
tribe  he  should  chance  to  fall  in  with.  What  I  heard  then 
was  neither  more  or  less  than  a  plot  to  steal  the  keg  and  its 
contents ! 

My  first  impulse  was  to  leap  up  and  stop  them  in  their  de- 
sign, as  well  as  administer  a  salutary  rebuke  to  my  voyageur 
and  his  red-haired  companion  :  but  a  moment's  reflection 
convinced  me  that  they  could  be  better  punished  in  another 
way.     I  would  leave  them  to  punish  themselves. 

I  remembered  that  some  days  previous  to  our  reaching  the 
Ojo  de  Vaca,  the  doctor  had  captured  a  snake  of  the  adder 
kind,  two  or  three  species  of  lizards,  and  a  hideous-looking 
animal  called,  in  hunter  phraseology,  the  horned  frog  :  the 
agama  cornuta  of  Texas  and  Mexico.  These  he  had  im- 
mersed in  the  spirit  for  preservation.  I  had  observed  him 
do  so,  and  it  was  evident  that  neither  my  Frenchman  nor  the 
Irishman  had  any  idea  of  this.  I  adopted  the  resolution, 
therefore,  to  let  them  drink  a  full  bumper  of  the  "  pickle"  be- 
fore I  should  interfere. 

Knowing  that  they  would  soon  return,  I  remained  where 
I  was. 


A   BITTER  TRAP.  279 

I  had  not  long  to  wait  upon  them.  In  a  few  minutes  they 
came  up,  Barney  carrying  what  I  knew  to  be  the  devoted 
keg. 

They  sat  down  close  to  where  I  lay,  and  prizing  out  the 
bung,  filled  the  liquor  into  their  tin  cups,  and  commenced 
imbibing. 

A  drouthier  pair  of  mortals  could  not  have  been  found 
anywhere ;  and  at  the  first  draught,  each  emptied  his  cup  to 
the  bottom ! 

"  It  has  a  quare  taste,  hasn't  it  ?  "  said  Barney,  after  he 
had  taken  the  vessel  from  his  lips. 

"  Oui !  e'est  vrai,  monsieur  ! 

"  What  dev  ye  think  it  is  ?  " 

"  Je   ne   sais  quoi.     It  smells  like   one    cussed one 

infernal " 

"  Is  it  fish  ye  mane  ?  " 

"  Oui !  like  one  dam  feesh :  un  bouquet  tries  bizarre 
Fichtre  !  " 

"  I  suppose  it's  something  that  the  Mexicans  had  drapped 
in  to  give  the  agwardenty  a  flayver.  It's  mighty  strong  any- 
how. It's  nothing  the  worse  av  that ;  but  it  'ud  be  sorry 
drinkin'  alongside  a  nate  dimmyjan  of  Irish  patyeen.  Och  ! 
mother  av  Moses  !  but  that's  the  raal  bayvaridge  !  " 

Here  the  Irishman  shook  his  head  to  express  with  more 
emphasis  his  admiration  of  the  "  native  "  whisky. 

"  Well,  Misther  Gowdey,"  continued  he,  "  whisky's  whisky 
at  any  rate  ;  and  if  we  can't  get  the  butther,  it's  no  raison  we 
should  refuse  the  brid ;  so  I'll  thank  ye  for  another  small 
thrifle  out  of  the  kig,"  and  the  speaker  held  out  his  tin  ves- 
sel to  be  replenished. 

Gode  lifted  the  keg,  and  emptied  more  of  its  contents  into 
their  cups. 

"  Mon  Dieu !  what  is  dis  in  my  cops  ? "  exclaimed  he, 
after  a  draught. 


280  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  Fwhat  is  it  ?  Let  me  see.  That !  Be  my  sowl  1  that's 
a  quare-looking  crayter  anyhow." 

"  Parbleu  1  it  is  von  dam  Texan,  von  fr-r-og  !  Dat  is  de 
durn  feesh  we  smell  stink.     Owah — ah — ah  !  " 

"  Oh  !  holy  mother  !  if  here  isn't  another  in  moine  !  By 
japers  !  it's  a  scurpion  lizard  !     Hoach — wach — wach  !  " 


"Ow- 

-ah- 

-ah— 

-ack— 

-ack ! 

Mon  Dieu 

l! 

Oach- 

— ach — ! 

Diable ! 

0- 

-ach- 

— ach- 

— o — oa — a- 

— ach  ! 

j? 

"  Tare 

-an-a 

ges! 

Ho- 

— ach  ! 

the 

owld 

do 

:tor  h 

as — oach 

— ack — ack  ! — Blessed  Vargin  !  Ha — ho — hoh — ack !  Poi- 
son !  poison  !  " 

And  the  brace  of  revelers  went  staggering  over  the  azotea, 
delivering  their  stomachs,  and  ejaculating  in  extreme  terror, 
as  the  thought  struck  them  that  there  might  be  poison  in  the 
pickle ! 

I  had  risen  to  my  feet,  and  was  enjoying  the  joke  in  loud 
laughter.  This  and  the  exclamations  of  the  men  brought 
a  crowd  of  hunters  up  to  the  roof,  who,  as  soon  as  they  per- 
ceived what  had  happened,  joined  in,  and  made  the  ruin 
ring  with  their  wild  peals. 

The  doctor,  who  had  come  up  among  the  rest,  was  not  so 
well  satisfied  with  the  occurrence.  After  a  short  search, 
however,  the  lizards  were  found  and  returned  to  the  keg, 
which  still  contained  enough  of  the  spirit  for  his  purposes. 
It  was  not  likely  to  be  disturbed  again,  even  by  the  thirstiest 
hunter  in  the  band. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


THE    PHANTOM    CITY. 


N  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day  our 
spies  came  in,  and  reported  that  the 
Navajoes  had  taken  the  southern  trail. 
They  had  returned  to  the  spring 
on  the  second  day  after  our  leaving 
it,  and  thence  had  followed  the  guiding  of  the  arrows.  It 
was  Dacoma's  band ;  in  all  about  three  hundred  warriors. 

Nothing  remained  for  us  now  but  to  pack  up  as  quickly 
as  possible,  and  pursue  our  march  to  the  north. 

In  an  hour  we  were  in  our  saddles,  and  following  the  rocky 
banks  of  the  San  Pedro. 

A  long  day's  journey  brought  us  to  the  desolate  valley  of 
the  Gila,  upon  whose  waters  we  encamped  for  the  night. 
We  slept  near  the  celebrated  ruins,  the  second  resting-place 
of  the  migrating  Aztecs. 

With  the  exception  of  the  botanist,  the  Coco  chief,  myself, 
and  perhaps  Seguin,  no  one  in  the  band  seemed  to  trouble 
himself  about  these  interesting  antiquities.  The  "  sign  "  of 
grizzly  bears,  that  was  discovered  upon  the  mud  bottom, 
gave  the  hunters  far  more  concern  than  the  broken  pottery 
and  its  painted  hieroglyphics.  Two  of  these  animals  were 
discovered  near  the  camp,  and  a  fierce  battle  ensued,  in 
which  one  of  the  Mexicans  nearly  lost  his  life,  escaping  only 

281 


282  THE   SCALP- HUNTERS.  • 

after  most  of  the  skin  had  been  clawed  from  his  head  and 
neck.  The  bears  themselves  were  killed,  and  made  part  of 
our  suppers. 

Our  next  day's  march  lay  up  the  Gila,  to  the  mouth  of  the 
San  Carlos  river,  where  we  again  halted  for  the  night.  The 
San  Carlos  runs  in  from  the  north ;  and  Seguin  had  resolved 
to  travel  up  this  stream  for  a  hundred  miles  or  so,  and  after- 
wards strike  eastward  to  the  country  of  the  Navajoes. 

When  this  determination  was  made  known,  a  spirit  of  dis- 
content showed  itself  among  the  men,  and  mutinous  whis- 
perings were  heard  on  all  sides. 

Shortly  after  we  halted,  however,  several  of  them  strayed 
up  the  banks  of  the  stream,  and  gathered  some  grains  of 
gold  out  of  its  bed.  Indications  of  the  precious  metal,  the 
quixa,  known  among  the  Mexicans  as  the  "gold  mother," 
were  also  found  among  the  rocks.  There  were  miners  in 
the  band,  who  knew  it  well,  and  this  served  to  satisfy  them. 
There  was  no  more  talk  of  keeping  on  to  the  Prieto.  Per- 
haps the  San  Carlos  might  prove  equally  rich.  Rumor  had 
also  given  it  the  title  of  a  "  golden  river  "  ;  at  all  events,  the 
expedition  must  cross  the  head  waters  of  the  Prieto  in  its 
journey  eastward  ;  and  this  prospect  had  the  effect  of  quiet- 
ing the  mutineers,  at  least  for  the  time. 

There  was  another  influence  ;  the  character  of  Seguin. 
There  was  no  single  individual  in  the  band  who  cared  to 
cross  him  on  slight  grounds.  They  knew  him  too  well  for 
that ;  and  though  few  of  these  men  set  high  value  on  their 
lives,  when  they  believe  themselves,  according  to  "  mountain 
law,"  in  the  right,  yet  they  knew  that  to  delay  the  expedition 
for  the  purpose  of  gathering  gold  was  neither  according  to 
their  compact  with  him  nor  agreeable  to  his  wishes.  Not  a 
few  of  the  band,  moreover,  were  actuated  by  motives  similar 
to  those  felt  by  Seguin  himself,  and  these  were  equally  desirous 
of  pushing  on  to  the  Navajo  towns. 


THE   PHANTOM   CITY.  283 

Still  another  consideration  had  its  influence  upon  the  ma- 
jority. The  party  of  Dacoma  would  be  on  our  track  as  soon 
as  they  had  returned  from  the  Apache  trail.  We  had,  there- 
fore, no  time  to  waste  in  gold-hunting,  and  the  simplest  of 
the  scalp-hunters  knew  this. 

By  daybreak  we  were  again  on  the  march,  and  riding  up 
the  banks  of  the  San  Carlos. 

We  had  now  entered  the  great  desert  which  stretches  north- 
ward from  the  Gila  away  to  the  head  waters  of  the  Colorado. 
We  entered  it  without  a  guide,  for  not  one  of  the  band  had 
ever  traversed  these  unknown  regions.  Even  Rube  knew 
nothing  about  this  part  of  the  country.  We  were  without 
compass  too,  but  this  we  heeded  not.  There  were  few  in 
the  band  who  could  not  point  to  the  north  or  the  south  within 
the  variation  of  a  degree  :  few  of  them  but  could,  night  or 
day,  tell  by  the  heavens  within  ten  minutes  of  the  true  time. 
Give  them  but  a  clear  sky,  with  the  "  signs  "  of  the  trees 
and  rocks,  and  they  needed  neither  compass  nor  chronom- 
eter. A  life  spent  beneath  the  blue  heaven  of  the  prairie- 
uplands  and  the  mountain  "  parks,"  where  a  roof  rarely  ob- 
structed their  view  of  the  azure  vaults,  had  made  astrono- 
mers of  these  reckless  rovers. 

Of  such  accomplishments  was  their  education,  drawn  from 
many  a  perilous  experience.  To  me  their  knowledge  of 
such  things  seemed  "  instinct." 

But  we  had  a  guide  as  to  our  direction,  unerring  as  the 
magnetic  needle  :  we  were  traversing  the  region  of  the  "  polar 
plant,"  the  planes  of  whose  leaves,  at  almost  every  step, 
pointed  out  our  meridian.  It  grew  upon  our  track,  and  was 
crushed  under  the  hoofs  of  our  horses  as  we  rode  onward. 

For  several  days  we  traveled  northward  through  a  coun- 
try of  strange-looking  mountains,  whose  tops  shot  heaven- 
ward in  fantastic  forms  and  groupings.  At  one  time  we  saw 
semi-globular  shapes  like  the  domes  of  churches ;  at  another, 


284  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

Gothic  turrets  rose  before  us ;  and  the  next  opening  brought 
in  view  sharp  needle-pointed  peaks,  shooting  upward  into 
the  blue  sky.  We  saw  columnar  forms  supporting  others 
that  lay  horizontally  ;  vast  boulders  of  trap-rock,  suggesting 
the  idea  of  some  antediluvian  ruin,  some  temple  of  gigantic 
Druids ! 

Along  with  singularity  of  formation  was  the  most  brilliant 
coloring.  There  were  stratified  rocks,  red,  white,  green,  and 
yellow,  as  vivid  in  their  hues  as  if  freshly  touched  from  the 
palette  of  the  painter. 

No  smoke  had  tarnished  them  since  they  had  been  flung 
up  from  their  subterranean  beds.  No  cloud  draped  their 
naked  outlines.  It  was  not  a  land  of  clouds,  for  as  we 
journeyed  amongst  them  we  saw  not  a  speck  in  the  heavens  ; 
nothing  above  us  but  the  blue  and  limitless  ether. 

I  remembered  the  remarks  of  Seguin. 

There  was  something  inspiriting  in  the  sight  of  these 
bright  mountains ;  something  life-like,  that  prevented  us 
from  feeling  the  extreme  and  real  desolation  by  which  we 
were  surrounded.  At  times  we  could  not  help  fancying  that 
we  were  in  a  thickly  populated  country  ;  a  country  of  vast 
wealth  and  civilization,  as  appeared  from  its  architectural 
grandeur.  Yet  in  reality  we  were  journeying  through  the 
wildest  of  earth's  dominions,  where  no  human  foot  ever  trod 
excepting  such  as  wear  the  moccasin  ;  the  region  of  the 
"  wolf  "  Apache  and  the  wretched  Yamparico. 

We  traveled  up  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  here  and  there, 
at  our  halting-places,  searching  for  the  shining  metal.  It 
could  be  found  only  in  small  quantities,  and  the  hunters  be- 
gan to  talk  loudly  of  the  Prieto.  There,  according  to  them, 
the  yellow  gold  lay  in  "  lumps." 

On  the  fourth  day  after  leaving  the  Gila,  we  came  to  a 
place  where  the  San  Carlos  canoned  through  a  high  sierra. 
Here  we  halted  for  the   night.     When  morning  came,  we 


THE    PHANTOM    CITY.  285 

found  we  could  follow  the  river  no  farther  without  climbing 
over  the  mountain  ;  and  Seguin  announced  his  intention  of 
leaving  it  and  striking  eastward.  The  hunters  responded 
te  this  declaration  with  a  joyous  hurrah.  The  golden  vision 
was  again  before  them. 

We  remained  at  the  San  Carlos  until  after  the  noon  heat, 
recruiting  our  horses  by  the  stream  ;  then  mounting,  we  rode 
forward  into  the  plain.  It  was  our  intention  to  travel  all 
night,  or  until  we  reached  water,  as  we  knew  that  without 
this,  halting  would  be  useless. 

We  had  not  ridden  far  until  we  saw  that  a  fearful 
"  Jornada  "  was  before  us  ;  one  of  those  dreaded  "  stretches  " 
without  grass,  wood,  or  water.  Ahead  of  us  we  could  see  a 
low  range  of  mountains  trending  from  north  to  south,  and 
beyond  these,  another  range  still  higher  than  the  first.  On 
the  farther  range  there  were  snowy  summits.  We  saw  that 
they  were  distinct  chains,  and  that  the  more  distant  was  of 
great  elevation.  This  we  knew  from  the  appearance  upon 
its  peaks  of  the  "  eternal  snow." 

We  knew,  moreover,  that  at  the  foot  of  the  snowy  range 
we  should  find  water,  perhaps  the  river  we  were  in  search 
of  ;  but  the  distance  was  immense.  If  we  did  not  find  it 
at  the  nearer  sierra,  we  should  have  an  adventure  :  the 
danger  of  perishing  from  thirst.     Such  was  the  prospect. 

We  rode  on  over  the  arid  soil ;  over  plains  of  lava  and 
cut-rock  that  wounded  the  hoofs  of  our  horses,  laming  many. 
There  was  no  vegetation  around  us  except  the  sickly  green 
of  the  artemisia,  or  the  fetid  foliage  of  the  creosote  plant. 
There  was  no  living  thing  to  be  seen  save  the  brown  and 
hideous  lizard,  the  rattlesnake,  and  the  desert  crickets  that 
crawled  in  myriads  along  the  parched  ground,  and  were 
crunched  under  the  hoofs  of  our  animals.  "  Water  !  "  was 
the  word  that  began  to  be  uttered  in  several  languages. 

"  Water  1  "  cried  the  choking  trapper. 


286  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  L'eau !  "  ejaculated  the  Canadian. 

"  Agua !  agua  !  "  shouted  the  Mexican. 

We  were  not  twenty  miles  from  the  San  Carlos  before  our 
gourd  canteens  were  as  dry  as  a  shingle.  The  dust  of  the 
plains  and  the  hot  atmosphere  had  created  unusual  thirst, 
and  we  had  soon  emptied  them. 

We  had  started  late  in  the  afternoon.  At  sundown  the 
mountains  ahead  of  us  did  not  seem  a  single  mile  nearer. 
We  traveled  all  night,  and  when  the  sun  rose  again  we  were 
still*  a  good  distance  from  them.  Such  is  the  illusory  char- 
acter of  this  elevated  and  crystal  atmosphere. 

The  men  mumbled  as  they  talked.  They  held  in  their 
mouths  leaden  bullets  and  pebbles  of  obsidian,  which  they 
chewed  with  a  desperate  fierceness. 

It  was  some  time  after  sunrise  when  we  arrived  at  the 
mountain  foot.  To  our  consternation,  no  water  could  be 
found ! 

The  mountains  were  a  range  of  dry  rocks,  so  parched-like 
and  barren  that  even  the  creosote  bush  could  not  find  nour- 
ishment along  their  sides.  They  were  as  naked  of  vegeta- 
tion as  when  the  volcanic  fires  first  heaved  them  into  the 
light. 

Parties  scattered  in  all  directions,  and  went  up  the  ravines  ; 
but  after  a  long  while  spent  in  fruitless  wandering,  we 
abandoned  the  search  in  despair. 

There  was  a  pass  that  appeared  to  lead  through  the  range  ; 
and  entering  this,  we  rode  forward  in  silence  and  with  gloomy 
thoughts. 

We  soon  debouched  on  the  other  side,  when  a  scene  of 
singular  character  burst  upon  our  view. 

A  plain  lay  before  us,  hemmed  in  on  all  sides  by  high 
mountains.  On  its  farther  edge  was  the  snowy  ridge,  with 
stupendous  cliffs  rising  vertically  from  the  plain,  towering 
thousands  of  feet  in  height.     Dark  rocks  seemed  piled  upon 


THE    PHANTOM    CITY.  287 

each  other,  higher  and  higher,  until  they  became  buried 
under  robes  of  the  spotless  snow. 

But  that  which  appeared  most  singular  was  the  surface  of 
the  plain.  It  was  covered  with  a  mantle  of  virgin  whiteness, 
apparently  of  snow ;  and  yet  the  more  elevated  spot  from 
which  we  viewed  it  was  naked,  with  a  hot  sun  shining  upon 
it.     What  we  saw  in  the  valley,  then,  could  not  be  snow. 

As  I  gazed  over  the  monotonous  surface  of  this  plain,  and 
then  looked  upon  the  chaotic  mountains  that  walled  it  in, 
my  mind  became  impressed  with  ideas  of  coldness  and  des- 
olation. It  seemed  as  if  everything  was  dead  around  us, 
and  Nature  was  laid  out  in  her  winding-sheet.  I  saw  that 
my  companions  experienced  similar  feelings,  but  no  one 
spoke  ;  and  we  commenced  riding  down  the  pass  that  led 
into  this  singular  valley. 

As  far  as  we  could  see  there  was  no  prospect  of  water  on 
the  plain  ;  but  what  else  could  we  do  than  cross  it  ?  On  its 
most  distant  border,  along  the  base  of  the  snowy  mountains, 
we  thought  we  could  distinguish  a  black  line,  like  that  of 
timber,  and  for  this  point  we  directed  our  march. 

On  reaching  the  plain,  what  had  appeared  like  snow  proved 
to  be  soda.  A  deep  incrustation  of  this  lay  upon  the  ground, 
enough  to  satisfy  the  wants  of  the  whole  human  race ;  yet 
there  it  lay,  and  no  hand  had  ever  stooped  to  gather  it. 

Three  or  four  rocky  buttes  were  in  our  way,  near  the  de- 
bouchure of  the  pass.  As  we  rounded  them,  getting  farther 
out  into  the  plain,  a  wide  gap  began  to  unfold  itself,  opening 
through  the  mountains  beyond.  Through  this  gap  the  sun's 
rays  were  streaming  ii\,  throwing  a  band  of  yellow  light 
across  one  end  of  the  valley.  In  this  the  crystals  of 
the  soda,  stirred  up  by  the  breeze,  appeared  floating  in 
myriads. 

As  we  descended,  I  observed  that  objects  began  to  as- 
sume a  very  different  aspect  from  what  they  had  exhibited 


288  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

from  above.  As  if  by  enchantment,  the  cold  snowy  surface 
all  at  once  disappeared.  Green  fields  lay  before  us,  and 
tall  trees  sprang  up,  covered  with  a  thick  and  verdant  fron- 
dage  ! 

"  Cotton-woods  !  "  cried  a  hunter,  as  his  eye  rested  on 
these  still  distant  groves. 

"  Tall  saplins  at  that — wagh  1  "  ejaculated  another. 

"  Water  thar,  fellers,  I  reckin  !  "  remarked  a  third. 

"  Yes,  siree  1  Yer  don't  see  such  sprouts  as  them  growin' 
out  o'  a  dry  paraira.     Look  1  hilloa  I  " 

"  By  gollies,  yonder's  a  house  1  " 

"  A  house  ?  One,  two,  three  1  A  house  ?  Thar's  a  whole 
town,  if  thar's  a  single  shanty.  Gee  1  Jim,  look  yonder  I 
Wagh  !  " 

I  was  riding  in  front  with  Seguin,  the  rest  of  the  band 
strung  out  behind  us.  I  had  been  for  some  time  gazing 
upon  the  ground,  in  a  sort  of  abstraction,  looking  at  the 
snow-white  efflorescence,  and  listening  to  the  crunching  of 
my  horse's  hoofs  through  its  icy  incrustation.  These  ex- 
clamatory phrases  caused  me  to  raise  my  eyes.  The  sight 
that  met  them  was  one  that  made  me  rein  up  with  a  sudden 
jerk.  Seguin  had  done  the  same,  and  I  saw  that  the  whole 
band  had  halted  with  a  similar  impulse. 

We  had  just  cleared  one  of  the  buttes  that  had  hitherto 
obstructed  our  view  of  the  great  gap.  This  was  now  directly 
in  front  of  us ;  and  along  its  base,  on  the  southern  side,  rose 
the  walls  and  battlements  of  a  city  ;  a  vast  city,  judging 
from  its  distance  and  the  colossal  appearance  of  its  architec- 
ture. We  could  trace  the  columns  of  temples,  and  doors, 
and  gates,  and  windows,  and  balconies,  and  parapets  and 
spires.  There  were  many  towers  rising  high  over  the  roofs, 
and  in  the  middle  was  a  temple-like  structure,  with  its  mas- 
sive dome  towering  far  above  all  the  others. 

I  looked  upon  this  sudden  apparition  with  a  feeling  of  in- 


THE    PHANTOM    CITY.  289 

credulity.  It  was  a  dream,  an  imagination,  a  mirage.  Ha  I 
it  was  the  mirage  ! 

No !  The  mirage  could  not  effect  such  a  complete  pic- 
ture. There  were  the  roofs,  and  chimneys,  and  walls,  and 
windows.  There  were  the  parapets  of  fortified  houses,  with 
their  regular  notches  and  embrasures.  It  was  a  reality.  It 
■was  a  city ! 

Was  it  the  Cibolo  of  the  Spanish  padrd  ?  Was  it  that 
city  of  golden  gates  and  burnished  towers  ?  After  all,  was 
the  story  of  the  wandering  priest  true  ?  Who  had  proved  it 
a  fable  ?  Who  had  ever  penetrated  this  region,  the  very 
country  in  which  the  ecclesiastic  represented  the  golden  city 
of  Cibolo  to  exist  ? 

I  saw  that  Seguin  was  puzzled,  dismayed,  as  well  as  my- 
self. He  knew  nothing  of  this  land.  He  had  never  wit- 
nessed a  mirage  like  that. 

For  some  time  we  sat  in  our  saddles,  influenced  by  strange 
emotions.  Shall  we  go  forward  ?  Yes  !  We  must  reach 
water.  We  are  dying  of  thirst ;  and,  impelled  by  this,  we 
spur  onward. 

We  had  ridden  only  a  few  paces  farther  when  the  hunters 
uttered  a  sudden  and  simultaneous  cry.  A  new  object — an 
object  of  terror — was  before  us.  Along  the  mountain  foot 
appeared  a  string  of  dark  forms.      They  were  mounted  men  ! 

We  dragged  our  horses  to  their  haunches,  our  whole  line 
halting  as  one  man. 

"  Injuns  !  "  was  the  exclamation  of  several. 

"  Indians  they  must  be,"  muttered  Seguin.  "  There  are 
no  others  here.  Indians  !  No  !  There  never  were  such 
as  them.  See  !  they  are  not  men  !  Look  !  their  huge 
horses,  their  long  guns:  they  are  giants !  By  Heaven!" 
continued  he,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  they  are  bodiless  ! 
They  are  phantoms  !  " 

There  were  exclamations  of  terror  from  the  hunters  behind. 


290  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

Were  these  the  inhabitants  of  the  city  ?  There  was  a 
striking  proportion  in  the  colossal  size  of  the  horses  and  the 
horsemen. 

For  a  moment  I  was  awe-struck  like  the  rest.  Only  a 
moment.  A  sudden  memory  flashed  upon  me.  I  thought 
of  the  Hartz  Mountains  and  their  demons.  I  knew  that  the 
phenomenon  before  vis  could  be  no  other  ;  an  optical  delu- 
sion ;  a  creation  of  the  mirage. 

I  raised  my  hand  above  my  head.  The  foremost  of  the 
giants  imitated  the  motion. 

I  put  spurs  to  my  horse  and  galloped  forward.  So  did  he, 
as  if  to  meet  me.  After  a  few  springs  I  had  passed  the  re- 
fracting angle,  and,  like  a  thought,  the  shadowy  giants  van- 
ished into  air. 

The  men  had  ridden  forward  after  me,  and  having  also 
passed  the  angle  of  refraction,  saw  no  more  of  the  phantom 
hosts. 

The  city,  too,  had  disappeared  ;  but  we  could  trace  the 
outlines  of  many  a  singular  formation  in  the  trap-rock  strata 
that  traversed  the  edge  of  the  valley. 

The  tall  groves  were  no  longer  to  be  seen  ;  but  a  low  belt 
of  green  willows,  real  willows,  could  be  distinguished  along 
the  foot  of  the  mountain  within  the  gap.  Under  their  foliage 
there  was  something  that  sparkled  in  the  sun  like  sheets  of 
silver.     It  was  water  !  "     It  was  a  branch  of  the  Prieto. 

Our  horses  neighed  at  the  sight ;  and,  shortly  after,  we 
had  alighted  upon  its  banks,  and  were  kneeling  before  the 
sweet  spirit  of  the  stream. 


Apaches  Lassoing  Wild  Horses. 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

THE  MOUNTAIN  OF  GOLD. 


FTER  so  fatigu- 
ing a  march,  it 
was  necessary 
-  to  make  a  long- 
er halt  than  usual.  We 
stayed  by  the  arroyo  all 
that  day  and  the  following 
night.  But  the  hunters 
longed  to  drink  from  the 
Prieto  itself  ;  and  the  next 
morning  we  drew  our  pick- 
ets, and  rode  in  the  direction  of  that  river.  By  noon  we 
were  upon  its  banks. 

A  singular  river  it  was,  running  through  a  region  of  bleak, 
barren,  and  desolate  mountains.  Through  these  the  stream 
had  forged  its  way  by  numerous  canons,  and  rushed  along  a 
channel  at  most  places  inaccessible.  It  was  a  black  and 
gloomy  river.     Where  were  its  sands  of  gold  ? 

After  riding  for  some  distance  along  its  banks,  we  halted 
at  a  point  where  its  bed  could  be  reached.  The  hunters, 
disregarding  all  else,  clambered  eagerly  over  the  steep  bluffs, 

291 


292  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

and  descended  to  the  water.  They  hardly  stayed  to  drink. 
They  crawled  through  narrow  interstices,  between  detached 
masses  of  rock  that  had  fallen  from  above.  They  lifted  the 
mud  in  their  hands,  and  washed  it  in  their  cups  ;  they  ham- 
mered the  quartz  rock  with  their  tomahawks,  and  pounded 
it  between  great  stones.  Not  a  particle  of  the  precious  metal 
could  be  found.  They  must  either  have  struck  the  river  too 
high  up,  or  else  the  El  Dorado  lay  still  farther  to  the  north. 

Wet,  weary,  angry,  muttering  oaths  and  expressions  of 
disappointment,  they  obeyed  the  signal  to  "  march  forward." 

We  rode  up  the  stream,  halting  for  the  night  at  another 
place  where  the  water  was  accessible  to  our  animals. 

Here  the  hunters  again  searched  for  gold,  and  again  found 
it  not.  Mutinous  murmurs  were  now  spoken  aloud.  The 
gold  country  lay  below  them  ;  they  had  no  doubt  of  it.  The 
chief  took  them  by  the  San  Carlos  on  purpose  to  disappoint 
them.  He  knew  this  would  prevent  delay.  "  He  cared  not 
for  them.  His  own  ends  were  all  he  wanted  to  accomplish. 
They  might  go  back  as  poor  as  they  had  come,  for  aught  he 
cared.     They  would  never  have  so  good  a  chance  again." 

Such  were  their  mutterings,  embellished  with  many  an 
oath. 

Seguin  either  heard  not  or  did  not  heed  them.  He  was 
one  of  those  characters  who  can  patiently  bear  until  a  proper 
cue  for  action  may  offer  itself.  He  was  fiery  by  nature,  like 
all  Creoles ;  but  time  and  trials  had  tempered  him  to  that 
calmness  and  coolness  that  befitted  the  leader  of  such  a 
band.  When  roused  to  action,  he  became  what  is  styled  in 
western  phraseology  a  "  Dangerous  man  ;  "  and  the  scalp- 
hunters  knew  it.     He  heeded  not  their  murmurings. 

Long  before  daybreak,  we  were  once  more  in  our  saddles, 
and  moving  onward,  still  up  the  Prieto.  We  had  observed 
fires  at  a  distance  during  the  night,  and  we  knew  that  they 
were  at  the  villages  of  the  "  Club  "  Apache'.     We  wished  to 


THE   MOUNTAIN   OF   GOLD.  293 

pass  their  country  without  being  seen ;  and  it  was  our  in- 
tention, when  daylight  appeared,  to  cacher  among  the  rocks 
until  the  following  night. 

As  dawn  advanced,  we  halted  in  a  concealed  ravine,  whilst 
several  of  us  climbed  the  hill  to  reconnoiter.  We  could  see 
the  smoke  rising  over  the  distant  villages  ;  but  we  had  passed 
them  in  the  darkness,  and,  instead  of  remaining  in  cachk,  we 
continued  on  through  a  wide  plain  covered  with  savage  and 
cactus  plants.  Mountains  towered  up  on  every  side  of  us  as 
we  advanced.  They  rose  directly  from  the  plains,  exhibit- 
ing the  fantastic  shapes  which  characterize  them  in  those 
regions.  Their  stupendous  precipices  overlooked  the  bleak, 
barren  tables  frowning  upon  them  in  sublime  silence.  The 
plains  themselves  ran  into  the  very  bases  of  these  cliffs. 
Water  had  surely  washed  them.  These  plateaux  had  once 
been  the  bed  of  an  ancient  ocean.  I  remembered  Seguin's 
theory  of  the  inland  seas. 

Shortly  after  sunrise,  the  trail  we  were  following  led  us  to 
an  Indian  crossing.  Here  we  forded  the  stream  with  the 
intention  of  leaving  it  and  heading  eastward. 

We  halted  our  horses  in  the  water,  permitting  them  to 
drink  freely.  Some  of  the  hunters,  moving  ahead  of  the  rest, 
had  climbed  the  high  banks.  We  were  attracted  by  their 
unusual  exclamations.  On  looking  upward,  we  perceived 
several  of  them  standing  on  the  top  of  a  hill,  and  pointing 
to  the  north  in  an  earnest  and  excited  manner.  Could  it  be 
Indians  ? 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  shouted  Seguin,  as  we  pushed  forward. 

"  A  gold  mountain  !   a  gold  mountain  !  "  was  the  reply. 

We  spurred  our  horses  hurriedly  up  the  hill.  On  reaching 
its  top,  a  strange  sight  met  our  gaze.  Away  to  the  north, 
and  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  an  object  glistened  in  the 
sun.  It  was  a  mountain,  and  along  its  sides,  from  base  to 
summit,  the  rocks   glittered  with  the   bright  semblance  of 


294  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

gold !  A  thousand  jets  danced  in  the  sunbeams,  dazzling 
the  eye  as  it  looked  upon  them.     Was  it  a  mountain  of  gold  ? 

The  men  were  in  a  frenzy  of  delight.  This  was  the  moun- 
tain so  often  discussed  over  the  bivouac  fires.  Who  of  them 
had  not  heard  of  it,  whether  credulous  or  not  ?  It  was  no 
fable,  then.  There  it  was  before  them,  in  all  its  burning 
splendor. 

I  turned  to  look  at  Seguin.  His  brow  was  bent.  There 
was  the  expression  of  anxiety  on  his  countenance.  He 
understood  the  illusion  ;  so  did  the  Maricopa  ;  so  did  Reich- 
ter.  I  knew  it  too.  At  a  glance  I  had  recognized  the  spark- 
ling scales  of  the  selenite. 

Seguin  saw  that  there  was  a  difficulty  before  us.  This 
dazzling  hallucination  lay  far  out  of  our  course ;  but  it  was 
evident  that  neither  commands  nor  persuasion  would  be 
heeded  now.  The  men  were  resolved  upon  reaching  it. 
Some  of  them  had  already  turned  their  horses'  heads  and  were 
moving  in  that  direction. 

Seguin  ordered  them  back.  A  stormy  altercation  ensued : 
in  short,  a  mutiny. 

In  vain  Seguin  urged  the  necessity  of  our  hastening  for- 
ward to  the  town.  In  vain  he  represented  the  danger  we 
were  in  of  being  overtaken  by  Dacoma's  party,  who  by  this 
time  were  upon  our  trail.  In  vain  the  Coco  chief,  the  doc- 
tor, and  myself,  assured  our  uneducated  companions  that 
what  they  saw  was  but  the  glancing  surface  of  a  worthless 
rock.  The  men  were  obstinate.  The  sight,  operating  upon 
long  cherished  hopes,  had  intoxicated  them.  They  had  lost 
all  reason.     They  were  mad. 

"  On  then  1  "  cried  Seguin,  making  a  desperate  effort  to 
restrain  his  passion.  "  On,  madmen,  and  satisfy  yourselves 
— our  lives  may  answer  for  your  folly !  "  and,  so  saying,  he 
turned  his  horse  and  headed  him  for  the  shining  beacon. 

The  men  rode  after,  uttering  loud  and  joyful  acclamations. 


THE    MOUNTAIN    OF   GOLD.  295 

At  the  end  of  a  long  day's  ride  we  reached  the  base  of 
the  mountain.  The  hunters  leaped  from  their  horses,  and 
clambered  up  to  the  glittering  rocks.  They  reached  them. 
They  broke  them  with  their  tomahawks  and  pistol-butts, 
and  cleft  them  with  their  knives.  They  tore  off  the  plates 
of  mica  and  glassy  selenite.  They  flung  them  at  their  feet 
abashed  and  mortified ;  and,  one  after  another,  came  back 
to  the  plain  with  looks  of  disappointment  and  chagrin.  Not 
one  of  them  said  a  word,  as  they  climbed  into  their  saddles, 
and  rode  sullenly  after  the  chief. 

We  had  lost  a  day  by  this  bootless  journey ;  but  our  con- 
solation lay  in  the  belief,  that  our  Indian  pursuers  following 
upon  our  trail  would  make  the  same  detour. 

Our  course  now  lay  to  the  southwest ;  but  finding  a  spring 
not  far  from  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  we  remained  by  it  for 
the  night. 

After  another  day's  march  in  a  southeasterly  course,  Rube 
recognized  the  profiles  of  the  mountains.  We  were  nearing 
the  great  town  of  the  Navajoes. 

That  night  we  encamped  on  a  running  water,  a  branch  of 
the  Prieto  that  headed  to  the  eastward.  A  vast  chasm  be- 
tween two  cliffs  marked  the  course  of  the  stream  above  us. 
The  guide  pointed  into  the  gap,  as  we  rode  forward  to  our 
halting-place. 

"  What  is  it,  Rube  ?  "  inquired  Seguin. 

"  'Ee  see  that  gully  ahead  o'  us?  " 

"  Yes  ;  what  of  it  ?  " 

"  The  town's  thur." 


Indian  Pearl  and  Shell  Beads. 


path  by  the  channel. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

NAVAJOA. 

T  was  near  evening  of  the  next  day 
when  we  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the 
sierra,  at  the  debouchure  of  the 
canon.  We  could  not  follow  the 
stream  any  farther,  as  there  was  no 
It  would  be  necessary  to  pass  over 
the  ridge  that  formed  the  southern  jaw  of  the  chasm. 
There  was  a  plain  trail  among  scrubby  pines  ;  and,  fol* 
lowing  our  guide,  we  commenced  riding  up  the  mountain. 

After  ascending  for  an  hour  or  so,  by  a  fearful  road  along 
the  very  brink  of  the  precipice,  we  climbed  the  crest  of  the 
ridge,  and  looked  eastward.  We  had  reached  the  goal  of 
our  journey.     The  town  of  the  Navajoes  was  before  us ! 

"  Voila  /"  "  Mira  el  pueblo!"  "  Thar's  the  town  !  " 
"  Hurrah ! "  were  the  exclamations  that  broke  from  the 
hunters. 

"  Oh  God  I  at  last  it  is !  '  muttered  Seguin,  with  a  sin- 
296 


iSTAVAJOA.  297 

gular  expression  of  countenance.  "  Oh,  God  be  praised  I 
Halt,  comrades  !  halt !  " 

Our  reins  were  tightened,  and  we  sat  on  our  weary  horses 
looking  over  the  plain.  A  magnificent  panorama,  magnificent 
under  any  circumstances,  lay  before  us  ;  but  its  interest  was 
heightened  by  the  peculiar  circumstances  under  which  we 
viewed  it. 

We  are  at  the  western  extremity  of  an  oblong  valley,  look- 
ing up  it  lengthwise.  It  is  not  a  valley,  though  so  called  in  the 
language  of  Spanish  America,  but  a  plain  walled  in  on  all 
sides  by  mountains.  It  is  elliptical  in  form,  the  diameter  of 
its  foci  being  ten  or  twelve  miles  in  length.  Its  shortest 
diameter  is  five  or  six.  It  has  the  surface  of  a  green 
meadow,  and  its  perfect  level  is  unbroken  by  brake,  bush,  or 
hillock.  It  looks  like  some  quiet  lake  transformed  into  an 
emerald. 

It  is  bisected  by  a  line  of  silvery  brightness  that  curves 
gracefully  through  its  whole  extent,  marking  the  windings  of 
a  crystal  stream. 

But  the  mountains  1  What  wild-looking  mountains,  partic- 
ularly those  on  the  north  side  of  the  valley !  They  are 
granite  upheaved.  Nature  must  have  warred  at  the  birth  of 
these  :  the  very  sight  of  them  suggests  the  throes  of  a  troubled 
planet.  Huge  rocks  hang  over,  only  half  resting  upon  fearful 
precipices ;  vast  boulders  that  seem  as  though  the  touch  of  a 
feather  would  cause  them  to  topple  down.  Grim  chasms 
open  into  deep,  dark  defiles,  that  lie  silent,  and  solemn,  and 
frowning.  Here  and  there,  stunted  trees,  the  cedar  and 
pinon,  hang  horizontally  out,  clinging  along  the  cliffs.  The 
unsightly  limbs  of  the  cactus,  and  the  gloomy  foliage  of  the 
creosote  bush,  grow  together  in  seams  of  the  rocks,  heighten" 
ing  their  character  of  ruggedness  and  gloom.  Such  is  the 
southern  barrier  of  the  valley. 

Look  upon  the  northern  sierra  I     Here  is  a  contrast,  a 


298  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

new  geology.  Not  a  rock  of  granite  meets  the  eye ;  but 
there  are  others  piled  as  high,  and  glistening  with  the  white- 
ness of  snow.  These  are  mountains  of  the  milky  quartz. 
They  exhibit  a  variety  of  peaks  naked  and  shining ;  crags 
that  hang  over  deep  treeless  ravines,  and  needle-shaped 
summits  aspiring  to  the  sky.  They  too  have  their  vegeta- 
tion :  a  vegetation  that  suggests  ideas  of  the  desert  and 
desolation. 

The  two  sierras  appear  to  converge  at  the  eastern  end  of  the 
valley.  We  are  upon  a  transverse  ridge  that  shuts  it  in 
upon  the  west,  and  from  this  point  we  view  the  picture. 

Where  the  valley  ends  eastwardly,  we  perceive  a  dark 
background  lying  up  against  the  mountains.  We  know  it  is 
a  pine-forest,  but  we  are  at  too  great  a  distance  to  distinguish 
the  trees.  Out  of  this  forest  the  stream  appears  to  issue ; 
and  upon  its  banks,  near  the  border  of  the  woods,  we  per- 
ceive a  collection  of  strange  pyramidal  structures.  They  are 
houses.     It  is  the  town  of  Navajoa ! 

Our  eyes  were  directed  upon  it  with  eager  gaze.  We 
could  trace  the  outlines  of  the  houses,  though  they  stood 
nearly  ten  miles  distant.  They  suggested  images  of  a  strange 
architecture.  There  were  some  standing  apart  from  the  rest, 
with  terraced  roofs,  and  we  could  see  there  were  banners 
waving  over  them.  One,  larger  than  the  rest,  presented  the 
appearance  of  a  temple.  It  was  out  on  the  open  plain,  and 
by  the  glass  we  could  detect  numerous  forms  clustered  upon 
its  top — the  forms  of  human  beings.  There  were  others 
upon  the  roofs  and  parapets  of  the  smaller  houses  ;  and  many 
more  moving  upon  the  plain  nearer  us,  driving  before  them 
flocks  of  animals,  mules  and  mustangs.  Some  were  down 
upon  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  others  we  could  see  plung- 
ing about  in  the  water. 

Several  droves  of  horses,  whose  mottled  flanks  showed 
their  breed,  were   quietly   browsing   on  the  open   prairie. 


NAVAJOA.  299 

Flocks  of  wild  swans,  geese,  and  gruys  winged  their  way  up 
and  down  the  meandering  current  of  the  stream. 

The  sun  was  setting.  The  mountains  were  tinged  with 
an  amber-colored  light ;  and  the  quartzose  crystals  sparkled 
©n  the  peaks  of  the  southern  sierra. 

It  was  a  scene  of  silent  beauty.  How  long,  thought  I, 
ere  its  silence  would  be  broken  by  the  sounds  of  ravage  and 
ruin ! 

We  remained  for  some  time  gazing  up  the  valley,  without 
any  one  uttering  his  thoughts.  It  was  the  silence  that  pre- 
cedes resolve.  In  the  minds  of  my  companions  there  were 
varied  emotions  at  play  ;  varied  in  kind  as  they  differed  in 
intensity  :  differing  as  widely  as  heaven  from  hell. 

Some  were  holy.  Men  sat  straining  their  eyes  over  the 
long  reach  of  meadow  thinking,  or  fancying,  that  in  the  dis- 
tance they  might  distinguish  a  loved  object :  a  wife,  a  sister, 
a  daughter,  or  perhaps  the  object  of  a  still  dearer  and  deeper 
affection.  No  ;  the  last  could  not  be.  None  could  have  been 
more  deeply  affected  than  he  who  was  seeking  for  his  child. 
A  father's  love  was  the  strongest  passion  there. 

Alas  !  there  were  other  emotions  in  the  bosoms  of  those 
around  me :  passions  dark  and  sinful.  Fierce  looks  were 
bent  upon  the  town.  Some  of  these  betokened  fierce  feel- 
ings of  revenge  ;  others  indicated  the  desire  of  plunder ;  and 
others  still  spoke,  fiendlike,  of  murder  /  There  had  been 
mutterings  of  this  from  day  to  day  as  we  journeyed.  Men 
disappointed  in  their  golden  dreams  had  been  heard  to  talk 
about  the  price  of  scalps  1 

By  a  command  from  Seguin  the  hunters  drew  back  among 
the  trees,  and  entered  into  a  hurried  council.  How  was  the 
town  to  be  taken  ?  We  could  not  approach  it  in  the  open 
light.  The  inhabitants  would  see  us  before  we  could  ride 
up,  and  make  their  escape  to  the  forest  beyond.  This  would 
defeat  the  whole  purpose  of  our  expedition. 


3oo 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


Could  not  a  party  get  round  to  the  eastern  end  of  the 
valley  and  prevent  this  ?  Not  through  the  plain  itself,  for  the 
mountains  rested  upon  its  surface,  without  either  ioot-hills 
or  paths  along  their  sides.  In  some  places  vast  cliffs  rose 
to  the  height  of  a  thousand  feet,  stepping  directly  upon  the 
level  plain.     This  idea  was  given  up. 

Could  we  not  turn  the  southern  sierra,  and  come  in  through 
the  forest  itself  ?  This  would  bring  us  close  to  the  houses 
under  cover.  The  guide  was  questioned,  and  answered  in 
the  affirmative.  But  that  could  only  be  accomplished  by 
making  a  detour  of  nearly  fifty  miles.  We  had  no  time  for 
such  a  journey,  and  the  thought   was  abandoned. 

The  town,  then,  must  be  approached  in  the  night  This 
was  the  only  plan  practicable ;  at  least,  the  most  likely  to 
to  succeed.     It  was  adopted. 

It  was  not  Seguin's  intention  to  make  a  night  attack,  but 
only  to  surround  the  buildings,  keeping  at  some  distance  out, 
and  remain  in  ambush  till  the  morning.  All  retreat  would 
thus  be  cut  off,  and  we  should  make  sure  of  taking  our 
captives  under  the  light  of  day. 

The  men  threw  themselves  to  the  ground,  and,  holding 
their  bridles,  waited  the  going  down  of  the  sun. 


Indian  Weapons  and  Ornaments. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

THE     NIGHT     AMBUSCADE. 

SHORT    hour  passes. 
The  bright  orb  sinks  be- 
hind us,  and  the  quartz 
rock     saddens    into    a 
somber  hue,     The  straggling  rays 
of  twilight  hover  but  a  moment 
over   the    chalky  cliffs,  and   then 
vanish  away.     It  is  night. 
Descending  the  hills  in  a  long  string,  we  arrive  upon  the 
plain.     We  turn  to   the  left,  and  keep  round  the  mountain 
foot.     The  rocks  guide  us. 

We  proceed  with  caution,  and  exchange  our  words  only  in 
whispers.  We  crawl  around  and  among  loose  boulders 
that  have  fallen  from  above.  We  turn  many  spurs  that 
shoot  out  into  the  plain.  Occasionally  we  halt  and  hold 
council. 

After  a  journey  of  ten  or  twelve  miles,  we  find  ourselves 
opposite  the  Indian  town.     We  are  not  over  a  mile  from  it. 

301 


302  THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 

We  can  see  the  fires  burning  on  the  plain,  and  hear  the 
voices  of  those  who  move  around  them. 

At  this  point  the  band  is  divided.  A  small  party  remains, 
making  its  cache  in  a  defile  among  the  rocks.  These  guard 
the  captive  chief  and  the  antajo  of  mules.  The  rest  move 
forward,  guided  by  Rube,  who  carries  them  round  the  edge 
of  the  forest,  here  and  there  dropping  a  picket  of  several 
men  as  he  proceeds. 

These  parties  conceal  themselves  at  their  respective  sta- 
tions, remain  silent,  and  wait  for  the  signal  from  the  bugle, 
which  is  to  be  given  at  the  hour  of  daybreak. 


The  night  passes  slowly  and  silently.  The  fires  one  by 
one  go  out,  until  the  plain  is  wrapped  in  the  gloom  of  a 
moonless  midnight.  Dark  clouds  travel  over  the  sky,  por- 
tending rain  :  a  rare  phenomenon  in  these  regions.  The 
swan  utters  its  wild  note,  the  gruya  whoops  over  the  stream, 
and  the  wolf  howls  upon  the  skirts  of  the  sleeping  village. 
The  voice  of  the  bull-bat  wails  through  the  air.  You  hear  the 
"  flap,  flap  "  of  his  long  wings  as  he  dashes  down  among  the 
cocuyos.  You  hear  the  hoof-stroke  on  the  hard  plain,  the 
"  crop  "  of  the  browsing  steed,  and  the  tinkling  of  the  bit- 
ring  ;  for  the  horses  eat  bridled.  At  intervals,  a  drowsy 
hunter  mutters  through  his  sleep,  battling  in  dreams  with 
some  terrible  foe.  Thus  goes  the  night.  These  are  its 
voices. 

They  cease  as  daybreak  approaches.  The  wolf  howls  no 
longer  ;  the  swan  and  the  blue  crane  are  silent ;  the  night- 
hawk  has  filled  his  ravenous  maw,  and  perches  on  the 
mountain  pine  ;  the  fire-flies  disappear,  chased  by  the  colder 
hours  ;  and  the  horses,  having  eaten  what  grew  within  their 
reach,  stand  in  lounging  attitudes,  asleep. 

A  gray  light  begins  to  steal  into  the  valley.     It  flickers 


THE   NIGHT   AMBUSCADE. 


303 


along  the  white  cliffs  of  the  quartz  mountain.  It  brings 
with  it  a  raw  cold  air,  that  awakens  the  hunters. 

One  by  one  they  arouse  themselves.  They  shiver  as 
they  stand  up,  and  carry  their  blankets  wrapped  about  their 
shoulders.  They  feel  weary,  and  look  pale  and  haggard. 
The  gray  dawn  lends  a  ghastly  hue  to  their  dusty  beards 
and  unwashed  faces. 

After  a  short  while  they  coil  up  their  trail-ropes  and  fasten 


Among  the  Aztecs.     A  Temple  of  the  Sun. 

them  to  the  rings.  They  look  to  their  flints  and  priming, 
and  tighten  the  buckles  of  their  belts.  They  draw  forth 
from  their  haversacks  pieces  of  dry  tasajo,  eating  it  raw. 
They  stand  by  their  horses,  ready  to  mount.  It  is  not  yet 
time. 

The  light  is  gathering  into  the  valley.  The  blue  mist  that 
hung  over  the  river  during  the  night  is  rising  upward.  We 
can  see  the  town.  We  can  trace  the  odd  outlines  of  the 
houses.     What  strange  structures  they  are  ! 

Some  of  them  are  higher  than  others  :    one,  two,  four 


304  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

stories  in  height.  They  are  each  in  form  like  a  pyramid 
without  its  apex.  Each  upper  story  is  smaller  than  that  be- 
low it,  the  roofs  of  the  lower  ones  serving  as  terraces  for 
those  above.  They  are  of  a  whitish  yellow,  the  color  of  the 
clay  out  of  which  they  are  built.  They  are  without  windows, 
but  doors  lead  into  each  story  from  the  outside  ;  and  ladders 
stretch  from  terrace  to  terrace,  leaning  against  the  walls. 
On  the  tops  of  some  there  are  poles  carrying  bannerets. 
These  are  the  residences  of  the  principal  war-chiefs  and  great 
warriors  of  the  nation. 

We  can  see  the  temple  distinctly.  It  is  like  the  houses 
in  shape,  but  higher  and  of  larger  dimensions.  There  is  a 
tall  shaft  rising  out  of  its  roof,  and  a  banner  with  a  strange 
device  floating  at  its  peak. 

Near  the  houses  we  see  corrals  filled  with  mules  and  mus- 
tangs, the  live-stock  of  the  village. 

The  light  grows  stronger.  Forms  appear  upon  the  roofs 
and  move  along  the  terraces.  They  are  human  forms  envel- 
oped in  hanging  garments,  robe-like  and  striped.  We  rec- 
ognize the  Navajo  blanket,  with  its  alternate  bands  of  black 
and  white. 

With  the  glass  we  can  see  these  forms  more  distinctly ; 
we  can  tell  their  sex. 

Their  hair  hangs  loosely  upon  their  shoulders,  and  far 
down  their  backs.  Most  of  them  are  females,  girls  and 
women.  There  are  many  children,  too.  There  are  men 
white-haired  and  old.  A  few  other  men  appear,  but  they 
are  not  warriors.     The  warriors  are  absent. 

They  come  down  the  ladders,  descending  from  terrace  to 
terrace.  They  go  out  upon  the  plain,  and  rekindle  the  fires. 
Some  carry  earthen  vessels,  ollas,  upon  their  heads,  and  pass 
down  to  the  river.  They  go  in  for  water.  These  are  nearly 
naked.  We  can  see  their  brown  bodies  and  uncovered 
breasts.     They  are  slaves. 


THE   NIGHT  AMBUSCADE.  30$ 

See !  the  old  men  are  climbing  to  the  top  of  the  temple. 
They  are  followed  by  women  and  children,  some  in  white, 
others  in  bright-colored  costumes.  These  are  girls  and 
young  lads,  the  children  of  the  chiefs. 

Over  a  hundred  have  climbed  up.  They  have  reached 
the  highest  roof.  There  is  an  altar  near  the  staff.  A  smoke 
rolls  up — a  blaze :  they  have  kindled  a  fire  upon  the  altar. 

Listen  !  the  chant  of  voices,  and  the  beat  of  an  Indian 
drum  ! 

The  sounds  cease,  and  they  all  stand  motionless  and  ap- 
parently silent,  facing  to  the  east. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ?  " 

"  They  are  waiting  for  the  sun  to  appear.  These  people 
worship  him." 

The  hunters,  interested  and  curious,  strain  their  eyes, 
watching  the  ceremony. 

The  topmost  pinnacle  of  the  quartz  mountain  is  on  fire. 
It  is  the  first  flash  of  the  sun  ! 

The  peak  is  yellowing  downward.  Other  points  catch  the 
brilliant  beams.  They  have  struck  the  faces  of  the  dev- 
otees. See  !  there  are  white  faces  1  One — two — many 
white  faces,  both  of  women  and  girls. 

"Oh,  God  !  grant  that  it  may  be  !  "  cries  Seguin,  hurriedly 
putting  up  the  glass,  and  raising  the  bugle  to  his  lips. 

A  few  wild  notes  peal  over  the  valley.  The  horsemen 
hear  the  signal.  They  debouch  from  the  woods  and  the 
defiles  of  the  mountains.  They  gallop  over  the  plain,  de- 
ploying as  they  go. 

In  a  few  minutes  we  have  formed  the  arc  of  a  circle,  con 
cave  to  the  town.  Our  horses'  heads  are  turned  inwards, 
and  we  ride  forward,  closing  upon  the  walls. 

We  have  left  the  atajo  in  the  defile ;  the  captive  chief, 
too,  guarded  by  a  few  of  the  men. 

The  notes  of  the  bugle  have  summoned  the  attention  of 
20 


306  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

the  inhabitants.  They  stand  for  a  while  in  amazement,  and 
without  motion.  They  behold  the  deploying  of  the  line. 
They  see  the  horsemen  ride  inward. 

Could  it  be  a  mock  surprise  of  some  friendly  tribe  ?  No. 
That  strange  voice,  the  bugle,  is  new  to  Indian  ears  ;  yet 
some  of  them  have  heard  it  before.  They  know  it  to  be  the 
war-trumpet  of  the  pale  faces  ! 

For  a  while  their  consternation  hinders  them  from  action. 
They  stand  looking  on  until  we  are  near.  Then  they  be- 
hold pale  faces,  strange  armor,  and  horses  singularly  capari- 
soned.    It  is  the  white  enemy  ! 

They  run  from  point  to  point,  from  street  to  street.  Those 
who  carry  water  dash  down  their  ollas,  and  rush  screaming 
to  the  houses.  They  climb  to  the  roofs,  drawing  the  ladders 
after  them.  Shouts  are  exchanged,  and  exclamations  uttered 
in  the  voices  of  men,  women,  and  children.  Terror  is  on 
every  face  ;  terror  displays  itself  in  every  movement. 

Meanwhile  our  line  has  approached,  until  we  are  within 
two  hundred  yards  of  the  walls.  We  halt  for  a  moment. 
Twenty  men  are  left  as  an  outer  guard.  The  rest  of  us, 
thrown  into  a  body,  ride  forward,  following  our  leader. 


Indian  Baskets  Decorated. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 


ADELE. 


E  direct  ourselves  to  the 
great  building,  and,  sur- 
rounding it,  again  halt. 
The  old  men    are  still 
upon  the  roof,  standing  along  the 
parapet.     They    are    frightened, 
and  tremble  like  children. 
"Do  not  fear;  we  are  friends  !  "  cries  Seguin,  speaking 
in  a  strange  language,  and  making  signs  to  them. 

His  voice  is  not  heard  amidst  the  shrieks  and  shouting 
that  still  continue. 

The  words  are  repeated,  and  the  sign  given  in  a  more 
emphatic  manner. 

The  old  men  crowd  along  the  edge  of  the  parapet.  There 
is  one  among  them  who  differs  from  the  rest.  His  snow- 
white  hair  reaches  below  his  waist.  There  are  bright  orna- 
ments hanging  from  his  ears  and  over  his  breast.  He  is 
attired  in  white  robes.  He  appears  to  be  a  chief,  for  the 
rest  obey  him.  He  makes  a  signal  with  his  hands,  and  the 
screaming  subsides.  He  stand  forward  on  the  parapet,  as 
if  to  speak  to  us. 

307 


308  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  Amigos,  amigos !  "  (friends !)  cries  he  speaking  in 
Spanish. 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  we  are  friends,"  replies  Seguin,  in  the  same 
language.     "  Do  not  fear  us  !     We  come  not  to  harm  you." 

"  Why  harm  us  ?  We  are  at  peace  with  the  white  pueblos 
to  the  east.  We  are  the  children  of  Montezuma  ;  we  are 
Navajoes.     What  want  you  with  us  ?  " 

"  We  come  for  our  relatives,  your  white  captives.  They 
are  our  wives  and  daughters." 

"  White  captives  !  You  mistake  us.  We  have  no  cap- 
tives. Those  you  seek  are  among  the  nations  of  the  Apache', 
away  far  to  the  south." 

"  No  ;  they  are  with  you,"  replies  Seguin.  "  I  have  cer- 
tain information  that  they  are  here.  Delay  us  not,  then  I 
We  have  come  a  far  journey  for  them,  and  will  not  go  with- 
out them." 

The  old  man  turns  to  his  companions.  They  converse  in 
a  low  voice,  and  exchange  signs.  Again  he  faces  round  to 
Seguin. 

"  Believe  me,  sefior  chief,"  says  he,  speaking  with  em- 
phasis, "you  have  been  wrongly  informed.  We  have  no 
white  captives." 

"  Pish !  'Ee  dod-rotted  ole  liar  !  "  cries  Rube,  pushing  out 
of  the  crowd,  and  raising  his  catskin  cap  as  he  speaks. 
"  'Ee  know  this  child,  do  'ee  ?  " 

The  skinless  head  is  discovered  to  the  gaze  of  the  In- 
dians. A  murmur,  indicative  of  alarm,  is  heard  among 
them.  The  white-haired  chief  seems  disconcerted.  He 
knows  the  history  of  that  scalp ! 

A  murmur,  too,  runs  through  the  ranks  of  the  hunters. 
They  had  seen  white  faces  as  they  rode  up.  The  lie  ex- 
asperates them,  and  the  ominous  click  of  rifles  being  cocked 
is  heard  on  all  sides. 

"  You  have  spoken  falsely,  old  man,"  cries  Seguin.     "  We 


ADELE.  309 

know  you  have  white  captives.  Bring  them  forth,  then,  if 
you  would  save  your  own  lives  !  " 

"  Quick  !  "  shouts  Garey,  raising  his  rifle  in  a  threatening 
manner;  "  quick  !  or  I'll  dye  the  flax  on  yer  old  skull." 

"  Patience,  amigo !  you  shall  see  our  white  people ;  but 
they  are  not  captives.  They  are  our  daughters,  the  children 
of  Montezuma." 

The  Indian  descends  to  the  third  story  of  the  temple. 
He  enters  a  door,  and  presently  returns,  bringing  with  him 
five  females  dressed  in  the  Navajo  costume.  They  are 
women  and  girls,  and,  as  any  one  could  tell  at  a  glance,  of 
the  Hispano-Mexican  race. 

But  there  are  those  present  who  know  them  still  better. 
Three  of  them  are  recognized  by  as  many  hunters,  and  rec- 
ognize them  in  turn.  The  girls  rush  out  to  the  parapet, 
stretch  forth  their  arms,  and  utter  exclamations  of  joy.  The 
hunters  call  to  them  : 

"  Pepe  !  "  "  Rafaela  !  "  "  Jesusita  1  "  coupling  their  names 
with  expressions  of  endearment.  They  shout  to  them  to 
come  down,  pointing  to  the  ladders. 

"  Bajan,  minas,  bajan  !  aprisa,  aprisa  /"  (come  down,  dear 
girls  !  quickly,  quickly  !) 

The  ladders  rest  upon  the  upper  terraces.  The  girls 
cannot  move  them.  Their  late  masters  stand  beside  them, 
frowning  and  silent. 

"  Lay  holt  thar !  "  cries  Garey,  again  threatening  with  his 
piece  ;  "lay  holt,  and  help  the  gals  down,  or  I'll  fetch  some 
o'  yerselves  a-tumblin'  over  !  " 

"  Lay  holt !  lay  holt !  shout  several  others  in  a  breath. 

The  Indians  place  the  ladders.  The  girls  descend,  and 
the  next  moment  leap  into  the  arms  of  their  friends. 

Two  of  them  remain  above  :  only  three  have  come  down. 
Seguin  has  dismounted,  and  passes  these  three  with  a  glance. 
None  of  them  is  the  object  of  his  solicitude  1 


3IO  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

He  rushes  up  the  ladder,  followed  by  several  of  the  men. 
He  springs  from  terrace  to  terrace,  up  to  the  third.  He 
presses  forward  to  the  post  where  stand  the  two  captive  girls. 
His  looks  are  wild,  and  his  manner  that  of  one  frantic.  They 
shrink  back  at  his  approach  mistaking  his  intentions.  They 
scream  with  terror  ! 

He  pierces  them  with  his  look.  The  instincts  of  the 
father  are  busy  :  they  are  baffled.  One  of  the  females  is 
old,  too  old ;  the  other  is  slave-like  and  coarse. 

"  Mon  Dieu  /  it  cannot  be !  "  he  exclaims  with  a  sigh. 
"  There  was  a  mark  ;  but  no,  no,  no  !  it  cannot  be  !  " 

He  leans  forward,  seizing  the  girl,  though  not  ungently, 
by  the  wrist.  Her  sleeve  is  torn  open,  and  the  arm  laid 
bare  to  the  shoulder. 

"  No,  no !  "  he  again  exclaims  ;  "  it  is  not  there.  It  is 
not  she." 

He  turns  from  them.  He  rushes  forward  to  the  old 
Indian,  who  falls  back  frightened  at  the  glare  of  his  fiery 
eye. 

"  These  are  not  all !  "  cries  he,  in  a  voice  of  thunder ; 
"  There  are  others.  Bring  them  forth,  old  man,  or  I  will 
hurl  you  to  the  earth  !  " 

"  There  are  no  other  white  squaws,"  replies  the  Indian, 
with  a  sullen  and  determined  air. 

"  A  lie  !  a  lie  !  your  life  shall  answer.  Here  !  confront 
him,  Rube !  " 

"  'Ee  dratted  old  skunk  !  That  white  har  o'  yourn  ain't 
a-gwine  to  stay  thur  much  longer  ev  you  don't  bring  her 
out.     Whur  is  she  ?  the  young  queen  ?  " 

"  Al  sur"  and  the  Indian  points  to  the  south. 

"  Oh  !  mon  Dieu  !  mon  Dieu  I "  cries  Seguin,  in  his  native 
tongue,  and  with  an  accentuation  that  expresses  his  complete 
wretchedness. 

"  Don't  believe  him,  cap  I  I've  seed  a  heap  o'  Injun  in 


ADELE.  311 

my  time ;  an'  a  lyiner  old  varmint  than  this'n  I  never  seed 
yet.     Ye  heerd  him  jest  now  'bout  the  other  gals  ?  " 

"  Yes,  true  ;  he  lied  directly  ;  but  she — she  might  have 
gone " 

"Not  a  bit  o'  it.  Lyin's  his  trade.  He's  thur  great 
medicine,  an'  humbugs  the  hul  kit  o'  them.  The  gal  is  what 
they  call  Mystery  Queen.  She  knows  a  heap,  an'  helps  ole 
whitey  hyur  in  his  tricks  an'  sacrifiches.  He  don't  want  to 
lose  her.  She's  hyur  somewhur,  I'll  be  boun' ;  but  she  ur 
cached :  that's  sartin." 

"  Men  !  "  cries  Seguin,  rushing  forward  to  the  parapet, 
"  take  ladders  !  Search  every  house  !  Bring  all  forth,  old 
and  young.  Bring  them  to  the  open  plain.  Leave  not  a 
corner  unsearched.     Bring  me  my  child !  " 

The  hunters  rush  for  the  ladders.  They  seize  those  of 
the  great  building,  and  soon  possess  themselves  of  others. 
They  run  from  house  to  house,  and  drag  out  the  screaming 
inmates. 

There  are  Indian  men  in  some  of  the  houses — lagging 
braves,  boys,  and  "dandies."  Some  of  these  resist.  They 
are  slaughtered,  scalped,  and  flung  over  the  parapets. 

Crowds  arrive,  guarded,  in  front  of  the  temple  ;  girls  and 
women  of  all  ages. 

Seguin's  eye  is  busy  ;  his  heart  is  yearning.  At  the 
arrival  of  each  new  group,  he  scans  their  faces.  In  vain  ! 
Many  of  them  are  young  and  pretty,  but  brown  as  the  fallen 
leaf.     She  is  not  yet  brought  up. 

I  see  the  three  captive  Mexicans  standing  with  their  friends. 
They  should  know  where  she  may  be  found. 

"  Question  them,"  I  whisper  to  the  chief. 

"  Ha  !  you  are  right.  I  did  not  think  of  that.  Come,  come  !  " 

We  run  together  down  the  ladders,  and  approach  the 
delivered  captives.  Seguin  hurriedly  describes  the  object 
of  his  search. 


3 12  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  It  must  be  the  Mystery  Queen,"  says  one. 

"  Yes,  yes  1 "  cries  Seguin,  in  trembling  anxiety  ;  "  it  is  ; 
she  is  the  Mystery  Queen." 

"  She  is  in  the  town,  then,"  adds  another. 

"  Where  ?  where  ?  "  ejaculates  the  half-frantic  father. 

"  Where  ?  where  ?  "  echo  the  girls  questioning  one  another. 

"  I  saw  her  this  morning,  a  short  time  ago  ;  just  before 
you  came  up." 

"  I  saw  him  hurry  her  off,"  adds  a  second,  pointing  up- 
ward to  the  old  Indian.     "  He  has  hidden  her." 

"  Caval '■/"  cries  another,  "  perhaps  in  the  estufa  /" 

"  The  estufa  !  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Where  the  sacred  fire  burns ;  where  he  makes  his 
medicine." 

"  Where  is  it  ?  lead  me  to  it !  " 

"  Ay  de  mi !  we  know  not  the  way  Tt  is  a  secret  place 
where  they  burn  people  !  Ay  de  mi  /" 

"  But,  sehor,  it  is  in  this  temple ;  somewhere  under  the 
ground.  He  knows.  None  but  he  is  permitted  to  enter  it. 
Carrai !     The  estufa  is  a  fearful  place.     So  say  the  people." 

An  indefinite  idea  that  his  daughter  may  be  in  danger 
crosses  the  mind  of  Seguin.  Perhaps  she  is  dead  already, 
or  dying  by  some  horrid  means.  He  is  struck,  so  are  we, 
with  the  expression  of  sullen  malice  that  displays  itself  upon 
the  countenance  of  the  medicine  chief.  It  is  altogether  an 
Indian  expression :  that  of  dogged  determination  to  die 
rather  than  yield  what  he  has  made  up  his  mind  to  keep. 
It  is  a  look  of  demoniac  cunning,  characteristic  of  men  of 
his  peculiar  calling  among  the  tribes. 

Haunted  by  this  thought,  Seguin  runs  to  the  ladder,  and 
again  springs  upward  to  the  roof,  followed  by  several  of  the 
band.  He  rushes  upon  the  lying  priest,  clutching  him  by 
the  long  hair. 

"  Lead  me   to  her !  "  he   cries,  in  a  voice  of  thunder ; 


ADELE.  313 

"  lead  me  to  this  queen  :  this  Mystery  Queen  1  She  is  my 
daughter." 

"  Your  daughter !  the  Mystery  Queen  1  "  replies  the 
Indian,  trembling  with  fear  for  his  life,  yet  still  resisting  the 
appeal.  "  No,  white  man;  she  is  not.  The  queen  is  ours. 
She  is  the  daughter  of  the  Sun.  She  is  the  child  of  a  Navajo 
chief." 

"  Tempt  me  no  longer,  old  man !  No  longer,  I  say. 
Look  forth  !  If  a  hair  of  her  head  has  been  harmed,  all 
these  shall  suffer.  I  will  not  leave  a  living  thing  in  your 
town.     Lead  on  !     Bring  me  to  the  estufa  I " 

"  To  the  estufa!    to  the  estufa  /"  shout  several  voices. 

Strong  hands  grasp  the  garments  of  the  Indian,  and  are 
twined  into  his  loose  hair.  Knives,  already  red  and  reeking, 
are  brandished  before  his  eyes.  He  is  forced  from  the 
roof,  and  hurried  down  the  ladders. 

He  ceases  to  resist,  for  he  sees  that  resistance  is  death ; 
and  half  dragged,  half  leading,  he  conducts  them  to  the 
ground-floor  of  the  building. 

He  enters  by  a  passage  covered  with  the  shaggy  hides  of 
the  buffalo.  Seguin  follows,  keeping  his  eye  and  hand  upon 
him.     We  crowd  after,  close  upon  the  heels  of  both. 

We  pass  through  dark  ways,  descending  as  we  go,  through 
an  intricate  labyrinth.  We  arrive  in  a  large  room  dimly 
lighted.  Ghastly  images  are  before  us  and  around  us,  the 
mystic  symbols  of  a  horrid  religion  !  The  walls  are  hung 
with  hideous  shapes  and  skins  of  wild  beasts.  We  can  see 
the  fierce  visages  of  the  grizzly  bear,  of  the  white  buffalo, 
of  the  carcajou,  of  the  panther,  and  the  ravenous  wolf.  We 
can  recognize  the  horns  and  frontlets  of  the  elk,  the  cimmaron, 
and  the  grim  bison.  Here  and  there  are  idol  figures,  of 
grotesque  and  monster  forms,  carved  from  wood  and  the 
red  claystone  of  the  desert. 

A  lamp  is  flickering  with  a  feeble  glare  ;  and  on  a  brazero, 


314  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

near  the  center  of  the  room,  burns  a  small  bluish  flame.  It 
is  the  sacred  fire ;  the  fire  that  for  centuries  has  blazed  to 
the  god  Quetzalcoatl ! 

We  do  not  stay  to  examine  these  objects.  The  fumes  of 
the  charcoal  almost  suffocate  us.  We  run  in  every  direction, 
overturning  the  idols  and  dragging  down  the  sacred  skins. 

There  are  huge  serpents  gliding  over  the  floor,  and  hiss- 
ing around  our  feet.  They  have  been  disturbed  and 
frightened  by  the  unwonted  intrusion.  We,  too,  are 
frightened,  for  we  hear  the  dreaded  rattle  of  the  crotalus  ! 

The  men  leap  from  the  ground,  and  strike  at  them  with 
the  butts  of  their  rifles.  They  crush  many  of  them  on  the 
stone  pavement. 

There  are  shouts  and  confusion.  We  suffer  from  the 
exhalations  of  the  charcoal.  We  shall  be  stifled.  Where  is 
Seguin  ?     Where  has  he  gone  ? 

Hark  !  There  are  screams  !  It  is  a  female  voice  1  There 
are  voices  of  men  too ! 

We  rush  towards  the  spot  where  they  are  heard.  We 
dash  aside  the  walls  of  pendant  skins.  We  see  the  chief. 
He  has  a  female  in  his  arms :  a  girl,  a  beautiful  girl,  robed 
in  gold  and  bright  plumes. 

She  is  screaming  as  we  enter,  and  struggling  to  escape 
him.  He  holds  her  firmly,  and  has  torn  open  the  fawn- 
skin  sleeve  of  her  tunic.  He  is  gazing  on  her  left  arm, 
which  is  bared  to  the  bosom  ! 

"It  is  she  !  it  is  she  I "  he  cries  in  a  voice  trembling  with 
emotion.  "  Oh  God  !  it  is  she  !  Adele !  Adele !  do  you 
not  know  me  ?     Me — your  father  ?  " 

Her  screams  continue.  She  pushes  him  off,  stretching  out 
her  arms  to  the  Indian,  and  calling  upon  him  to  protect  her ! 

The  father  entreats  her  in  wild  and  pathetic  words.  She 
heeds  him  not.  She  turns  her  face  from  him,  and  crouches 
down,  hugging  the  knees  of  the  priest  1 


ADELE.  315 

"  She  knows  me  not !     Oh  God  !  my  child  !  my  child  !  " 

Again  Seguin  speaks  in  the  Indian  tongue,  and  with  im- 
ploring accents — 

"  Adele  !  Adele  !     /  am  your  father  !  " 

"  You  !  Who  are  you  ?  The  white  men  ;  our  foes  I 
Touch  me  not !     Away,  white  men  !  away  !  " 

"  Dear,  dearest  Adele !  do  not  repel  me :  me,  your  father ! 
You  remember " 

"  My  father !  My  father  was  a  great  chief.  He  is  dead. 
This  is  my  father  now.  The  Sun  is  my  father.  I  am  a 
daughter  of  Montezuma  !     I  am  a  queen  of  the  Navajoes  1  " 

As  she  utters  these  words,  a  change  seems  to  come  over 
her  spirit.  She  crouches  no  longer.  She  rises  to  her  feet. 
Her  screaming  has  ended,  and  she  stands  in  an  attitude  of 
pride  and  indignation. 

"  Oh,  Adele  !  "  continues  Seguin,  more  earnest  than  ever, 
"  look  at  me  !  look  !  Do  you  not  remember  ?  Look  in  my 
face !  Oh  heaven !  Here,  see !  Here  is  your  mother, 
Adele !  See  !  this  is  her  picture ;  your  angel  mother.  Look 
at  it !     Look,  oh,  Adele  !  " 

Seguin,  while  he  is  speaking,  draws  a  miniature  from  his 
bosom,  and  holds  it  before  the  eyes  of  the  girl.  It  arrests 
her  attention.  She  looks  upon  it,  but  without  any  signs  of 
recognition.     It  is  to  her  only  a  curious  object. 

She  seems  struck  with  his  manner,  frantic  but  entreating. 
She  seems  to  regard  him  with  wonder.  Still  she  repels  him. 
It  is  evident  she  knows  him  not.  She  has  lost  every  recol- 
lection of  him  and  his.  She  has  forgotten  the  language  of 
her  childhood  ;  she  has  forgotten  her  father,  her  mother  :  she 
has  forgotten  all 1 

I  could  not  restrain  my  tears  as  I  looked  upon  the  face  of 
my  friend,  for  I  had  grown  to  consider  him  such.  Like  one 
who  has  received  a  mortal  wound,  yet  still  lives,  he  stood  in 


3i6 


THE  SCALP- HUNTERS. 


the  center  of  the  group,  silent  and  crushed.  His  head  had 
fallen  upon  his  breast,  his  cheek  was  blanched  and  bloodless ; 
and  his  eye  wandered  with  an  expression  of  imbecility  pain- 
ful to  behold.  I  could  imagine  the  terrible  conflict  that  was 
raging  within. 

He  made  no  further  efforts  to  entreat  the  girl.  He  no 
longer  offered  to  approach  her ;  but  stood  for  some  moments 
in  the  same  attitude  without  speaking  a  word. 

"Bring  her  away!"  he  muttered,  at  length,  in  a  voice 
husky  and  broken ;  "  bring  her  away  1  Perhaps,  i?i  God's 
mercy,  she  may  yet  remember. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

THE   WHITE    SCALP. 

E  repassed   the   hor- 
rid     chamber,     and 
emerged     upon    the 
j  lowermost  terrace  of 
the  temple. 

As  I  walked  forward  to  the 
parapet,  there  was  a  scene  be- 
low that  filled  me  with  appre- 
hension. A  cloud  seemed  to 
fall  over  my  heart. 
The  impression  was  sudden,  and,  at  the  moment,  indefi- 
nite as  to  its  cause.  Was  it  the  sight  (for  I  saw  it)  of  blood  ? 
No.  It  could  not  be  that.  Blood  had  been  before  my  eyes 
too  often  of  late,  and  I  had  become  accustomed  to  its  wanton 
shedding.  It  may  have  been  partially  the  cause  ;  but  there 
were  other  sights  and  sounds,  hardly  affecting  the  eye  and 
ear,  yet  sufficiently  definite  to  impress  my  mind  with  fear 
and  foreboding.  There  was  a  bad  electricity  in  the  air — not  the 
natural,  but  the  moral  atmosphere — that  reached  me  through 
those  mysterious  channels  not  yet  traced  by  philosophy. 
Look  back  upon  your  experience.     Have  you  not  often  felt 

317 


3l8  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

sensible  that  wrath  or  other  bad  passions  existed  in  the 
minds  of  men  before  you  could  perceive  it  by  any  definite 
look,  word,  or  action  ? 

As  the  wild  animal  foretells  the  hurricane  when  the  atmos- 
phere is  tranquil,  I  instinctively  felt  that  a  dark  scene  was 
approaching. 

Perhaps  I  drew  my  omens  from  the  very  tranquillity  that 
reigned  around.  In  the  moral  as  in  the  physical  world  there 
is  a  stillness  that  precedes  the  storm. 

In  front  of  the  temple  were  the  women  of  the  village  ;  girls, 
women,  and  children  ;  in  all  about  two  hundred.  They  were 
variously  attired :  some  were  wrapped  in  their  striped  blank- 
ets ;  some  wore  tilmas,  and  tunics  of  embroidered  fawnskin, 
plumed  and  painted  with  dyes  of  vivid  color  ;  some  were 
dressed  in  the  garb  of  civilized  life  :  in  rich  satins,  that  had 
been  worn  by  the  dames  of  the  Del  Norte  ;  in  flounces  that 
had  fluttered  in  the  dance  around  the  ankles  of  some  gay 
maja  f 

Not  a  few  in  the  crowd  were  entirely  nude,  without  even 
the  shielding  of  the  fig-leaf. 

They  were  all  Indians,  but  of  lighter  and  darker  shades  ; 
differing  in  color  as  in  expression  of  face.  Some  were  old, 
wrinkled,  and  coarse ;  but  there  were  many  of  them  young, 
noble-like,  and  altogether  beautiful. 

They  were  grouped  together  in  various  attitudes.  They 
had  ceased  their  screaming,  but  murmured  among  them- 
selves in  low  and  plaintive  exclamations. 

As  I  looked,  I  saw  blood  running  from  their  ears  !  It  had 
dappled  their  throats  and  spurted  over  their  garments. 

A  glance  satisfied  me  as  to  the  cause  of  this.  They  had 
been  rudely  robbed  of  their  golden  hangings. 

Near  and  around  them  stood  the  scalp-hunters,  in  groups 
and  afoot.  They  were  talking  in  whispers  and  low  mutter- 
ings.     There  were  objects  about  their  persons  that  attracted 


THE   WHITE    SCALP.  319 

my  eye.  Curious  articles  of  ornament  or  use  peeped  out 
from  their  pouches  and  haversacks  ;  bead-strings  and  pieces 
of  shining  metal — gold  it  was — hung  around  their  necks  and 
over  their  breasts.  These  were  the  plundered  bijouterie  of 
the  savage  maidens. 

There  were  other  objects  upon  which  my  eye  rested  with 
feelings  of  deeper  pain.  Stuck  behind  the  belts  of  many 
were  scalps,  fresh  and  reeking.  Their  knife-hilts  and  fingers 
were  red ;  there  was  blood  upon  their  hands  :  there  was 
gloom  in  their  glances. 

The  picture  was  appalling  ;  and,  adding  to  its  awful  im- 
pression, black  clouds  were  at  the  moment  rolling  over  the 
valley,  and  swathing  the  mountains  in  their  opaque  masses. 
The  lightning  jetted  from  peak  to  peak,  followed  by  short 
claps  of  close  and  deafening  thunder. 

"  Bring  up  the  atajo  !  "  shouted  Seguin,  as  he  descended 
the  ladder  with  his  daughter. 

A  signal  was  given  ;  and  shortly  after  the  mules,  in  charge 
of  the  arrieros,  came  stringing  across  the  plain. 

"  Collect  all  the  dry  meat  that  can  be  found.  Let  it  be 
packed  as  speedily  as  possible," 

In  front  of  most  of  the  houses  there  were  strings  of  tasajo 
hanging  against  the  walls.  There  were  also  dried  fruits  and 
vegetables,  chili,  roots  of  the  kamas,  and  skin-bags  filled  with 
pinons  and  choke-berries. 

The  meat  was  soon  brought  together,  and  several  of  the 
men  assisted  the  arrieros  in  packing  it. 

"  There  will  be  barely  enough,"  said  Seguin.  Here,  Rube," 
continued  he,  calling  to  the  old  trapper ;  "  pick  out  your  pris- 
oners. Twenty  will  be  as  many  as  we  can  take.  You 
know  them  :  choose  those  most  likely  to  tempt  an  exchange." 

So  saying,  the  chief  turned  off  towards  the  atajo,  leading 
his  daughter  with  the  intention  of  mounting  her  on  one  of  the 
mules. 


320  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

Rube  proceeded  to  obey  the  orders  given  him.  In  a  short 
time  he  had  collected  a  number  of  unresisting  captives,  and 
had  put  them  aside  from  the  rest.  They  were  principally 
girls  and  young  lads,  whose  dress  and  features  bespoke  them 
of  the  noblesse  of  the  nation,  the  children  of  chiefs  and 
warriors. 

This  movement  was  not  regarded  in  silence.  The  men 
had  drawn  together,  and  commenced  talking  in  loud  and 
mutinous  language. 

"  Wagh  !  "  exclaimed  Kirker,  a  fellow  of  brutal  aspect ; 
"  thar  are  wives  a-piece,  boys :  why  not  every  man  help  him- 
self?    Why  not?" 

"  Kirker's  right,"  rejoined  another ;  "  and  I've  made  up 
my  mind  to  have  one,  or  bust." 

"  But  how  are  ye  goin'  to  feed  'em  on  the  road  ?  We 
ha'n't  meat  if  we  take  one  a-piece." 

"  Meat  be  hanged  1  "  ejaculated  the  second  speaker ;  "  we 
kin  reach  the  Del  Nort  in  four  days  or  less.  What  do  we 
want  with  so  much  meat  ?  " 

"  There's  meat  a  plenty,"  rejoined  Kirker.  "  That's  all 
the  captain's  palaver.  If  it  runs  out  we  kin  drop  the  weemen, 
and  take  what  o'  them's  handiest  to  carry." 

This  was  said  with  a  significant  gesture,  and  a  ferocity  of 
expression  revolting  to  behold. 

"  Now,  boys  !  what  say  ye  ?  " 

"  I  freeze  to  Kirker." 

"  And  I." 

"  And  I." 

"  I'm  not  goin'  to  advise  anybody,"  added  the  brute 
"  Ye  may  all  do  as  ye  please  about  it ;  but  this  niggur's  not 
a  goin'  to  starve  in  the  midst  o'  plenty." 

"  Right,  comrade !  right,  I  say." 

"  Wal.  First  spoke  first  pick,  I  reckin.  That's  moun- 
tain law  ;  so,  old  gal,  I  cottons  to  you.    Come  along,  will  yer  ?  " 


THE   WHITE   SCALP. 


321 


Saying  this,  he  seized  one  of  the  Indians,  a  large,  fine- 
looking  woman,  roughly  by  the  wrist,  and  commenced  drag- 
ging her  towards  the  atajo. 

The  woman  screamed  and  resisted,  frightened,  not  at  what 
had  been  said,  for  she  did  not  understand  it,  but  terrified  by 


Indian  Mummies  a  Thousand  Years  Old. 

the  ruffian  expression  that  was  plainly  legible  in  the  counte- 
nance of  the  man. 

"  Shut  up  yer  meat-trap,  will  ye  ? "  cried  he,  still  pulling 
her  towards  the  mules  :  "  I'm  not  goin'  to  eat  ye.  Wagh  ! 
Don't  be  so  skeert.     Come  !  mount  hyar.     Gee  yup  I  " 

And  with  this  exclamation  he  lifted  the  woman  upon  one 
of  the  mules. 


322  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  If  ye  don't  sit  still,  I'll  tie  ye  ;  mind  that !  "  and  he  held 
up  the  lasso,  making  signs  of  his  determination. 

A  horrid  scene  now  ensued.    . 

A  number  of  the  scalp-hunters  followed  the  example  of 
their  ruffian  comrade.  Each  one  chose  the  girl  or  woman  he 
had  fancied,  and  commenced  hurrying  her  off  to  the  atajo. 
The  women  shrieked.  The  men  shouted  and  swore.  Sev- 
eral scrambled  for  the  same  prize  :  a  girl  more  beautiful  than 
her  companions.  A  quarrel  was  the  consequence.  Oaths 
and  ejaculations  rang  out ;  knives  were  drawn  and  pistols 
cocked. 

"  Toss  up  for  her  1 "  cried  one. 

"  Ay,  that's  fair  :  toss  up  1  toss  up  I  "  shouted  several. 

The  hint  was  adopted  ;  the  lots  were  cast ;  and  the  savage 
belle  became  the  property  of  the  winner. 

In  the  space  of  a  few  minutes  nearly  every  mule  in  the 
atajo  carried  an  Indian  damsel. 

Some  of  the  hunters  had  taken  no  part  in  this  Sabine  pro- 
ceeding. Some  disapproved  of  it  (for  all  were  not  bad)  from 
motives  of  humanity.  Others  did  not  care  for  being  "  ham- 
pered with  a  squaw,"  but  stood  apart,  savagely  laughing  at 
the  scene. 

During  all  this  time  Seguin  was  on  the  other  side  of  the 
building  with  his  daughter.  He  had  mounted  her  upon  one 
of  the  mules,  and  covered  her  shoulders  with  his  serape\  He 
was  making  such  preparations  for  her  journey  as  the  tender 
solicitudes  of  the  father  suggested. 

The  noise  at  length  attracted  him ;  and,  leaving  her 
in  charge  of  his  servants,  he  hurried  round  to  the 
front. 

"  Comrades  !  "  cried  he,  glancing  at  the  mounted  captives, 
and  comprehending  all  that  had  occurred,  "  there  are  too 
many  here.  Are  these  whom  you  have  chosen  ?  This  ques- 
tion was  directed  to  the  trapper  Rube. 


THE   WHITE   SCALP.  32$ 

"  No,"  replied  the  latter,  "them's  'em,"  and  he  pointed  to 
the  party  he  had  picked  out. 

"  Dismount  these,  then,  and  place  those  you  have  selected 
upon  the  mules.  We  have  a  desert  to  cross,  and  it  will  be 
as  much  as  we  can  do  to  pass  it  with  that  number." 

And  without  appearing  to  notice  the  scowling  looks  of  his 
followers,  he  proceeded,  in  company  with  Rube  and  several 
others,  to  execute  the  command  he  had  given. 

The  indignation  of  the  hunters  now  showed  itself  in  open 
mutiny.  Fierce  looks  were  exchanged,  and  threats  uttered 
aloud. 

"  By  heaven  1  "  cried  one,  "  I'll  have  my  gal  along,  or  her 
scalp." 

"  Vaya  /"  exclaimed  another  in  Spanish  :  "  why  take  any 
of  them  ?  They're  not  worth  the  trouble,  after  all.  There's 
not  one  of  them  worth  the  price  of  her  own  hair." 

"  Take  the  har  then,  and  leave  the  niggurs !  "  suggested  a 
third. 

"  I  say  so  too." 

"  And  I." 

"  I  vote  with  you,  hoss." 

"  Comrades  !  "  said  Seguin,  turning  to  the  mutineers,  and 
speaking  in  a  tone  of  extreme  mildness,  "  remember  your 
promise.  Count  the  prisoners,  as  we  agreed.  I  will  answer 
for  the  payment  of  all. 

"  Can  ye  pay  for  them  now  ?  "  asked  a  voice. 

"  You  know  that  that  would  be  impossible." 

"  Pay  for  them  now !  Pay  for  them  now  1  "  shouted 
several. 

"  Cash  or  scalps,  say  I." 

"  Carajo  !  where  is  the  captain  to  get  the  money  when  we 
reach  El  Paso  more  than  here  ?  He's  neither  a  Jew  nor  a 
banker  ;  and  it's  news  to  me  if  he's  grown  so  rich.  Where, 
then,  is  all  this  money  to  come  from  ? " 


324  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  Not  from  the  CabiZdo,  unless  the  scalps  are  forthcoming ; 
I'll  warrant  that." 

"  True,  Jose !  They'll  give  no  money  to  him,  more  than 
to  us ;  and  we  can  get  it  ourselves  if  we  show  the  skins  for 
it.     That  we  can." 

"  Wagh  I  what  cares  he  for  us  now  that  he  has  got  what 
he  wanted  ?  " 

"  Not  a  niggur's  cuss.  He  wouldn't  let  us  go  by  the  Prieto, 
when  we  kud  'a  gathered  the  shining  stuff  in  chunks." 

"  Now  he  wants  us  to  throw  away  this  chance  too.  We'd 
be  green  fools  to  do  it,  I  say." 

It  struck  me  at  this  moment  that  I  might  interfere  with 
success.  Money  seemed  to  be  what  the  mutineers  wanted ; 
at  least  it  was  their  alleged  grievance  ;  and  rather  than  wit- 
ness the  fearful  drama  which  appeared  to  be  on  the  eve  of 
enactment,  I  would  have  sacrificed  my  fortune. 

"  Men  !  "  cried  I,  speaking  so  that  I  could  be  heard  above 
the  din,  "  if  you  deem  my  word  worth  listening  to,  it  is  this : 
I  have  sent  a  cargo  to  Chihuahua  with  the  last  caravan.  By 
the  time  we  can  get  back  to  El  Paso  the  traders  will  have 
returned,  and  I  shall  be  placed  in  possession  of  funds  double 
what  you  demand.  If  you  will  accept  my  promise  I  shall 
see  that  you  be  paid. " 

"  Wagh  1  that  talk's  all  very  well,  but  what  do  we  know 
of  you  or  yer  cargo  ?  " 

"  Vaya  !    A  bird  in  the  hand's  worth  two  in  the  bush." 

"  He's  a  trader.     Who's  goin'  to  take  his  word  ?  " 

"  Rot  his  cargo !  Scalps  or  cash,  cash  or  scalps  !  that's 
this  niggur's  advice  ;  an'  if  ye  don't  take  it,  boys,  ye  may 
leave  it ;  but  it's  all  the  pay  ye'll  ever  crook  yer  claws  on." 

The  men  had  tasted  blood,  and  like  the  tiger,  they  thirsted 
for  more.  There  were  glaring  eyes  on  all  sides,  and  the 
countenances  of  some  exhibited  an  animal  ferociousness  hid- 
eous to  look  upon.     The  half-robber  discipline  that  hitherto 


THE   WHITE   SCALP.  325 

ruled  in  the  band  seemed  to  have  completely  departed,  and 
the  authority  of  the  chief  to  be  set  at  defiance. 

On  the  other  side  stood  the  females,  clinging  and  huddling 
together.  They  could  not  understand  the  mutinous  language, 
but  they  saw  threatening  attitudes  and  angry  faces.  They 
saw  knives  drawn,  and  heard  the  cocking  of  guns  and  pistols. 
They  knew  there  was  danger,  and  they  crouched  together 
whimpering  with  fear. 

Up  to  this  moment,  Seguin  had  stood  giving  directions  for 
the  mounting  of  captives.  His  manner  was  strangely 
abstracted,  as  it  had  been  ever  since  the  scene  of  meeting 
with  his  daughter.  That  greater  care,  gnawing  at  his  heart, 
seemed  to  render  him  insensible  to  what  was  passing.  He 
was  not  so. 

As  Kirker  ended  (for  he  was  the  last  speaker)  a  change 
came  over  Seguin's  manner,  quick  as  a  flash  of  lightning. 
Suddenly  rousing  himself  from  his  attitude  of  indifference, 
he  stepped  forward  in  front  of  the  mutineers. 

"  Dare  !  "  shouted  he,  in  a  voice  of  thunder — "  dare  to  dis- 
honor your  oaths  1  By  heavens  !  the  first  man  who  raises 
knife  or  rifle  shall  die  on  the  instant !  " 

There  was  a  pause,  and  a  moment  of  deep  silence. 

"  I  had  made  a  vow,"  continued  he,  "  that  should  it  please 
God  to  restore  me  my  child,  this  hand  should  be  stained  with 
no  more  blood.  Let  any  man  force  me  to  break  that  vow, 
and  by  heaven  his  blood  shall  be  the  first  to  stain  it !  " 

A  vengeful  murmur  ran  through  the  crowd,  but  no  one 
replied. 

"  You  are  but  a  cowardly  brute,  with  all  your  bluster,"  he 
continued,  turning  round  to  Kirker,  and  looking  him  in  the 
eye.  "  Up  with  that  knife  !  quick  1  or  by  the  God  of  heaven 
I  will  send  this  bullet  through  your  ruffian  heart !  " 

Seguin  had  drawn  his  pistol,  and  stood  in  an  attitude  that 
told  he  would  execute  the  threat.     His  form  seemed  to  have 


326  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

grown  larger ;  his  eye  dilated,  flashing  as  it  rolled,  and  the 
man  shrank  before  its  glance.  He  saw  death  in  it  if  he  dis- 
obeyed, and  with  a  surly  murmur  he  fumbled  mechanically 
at  his  belt,  and  thrust  the  blade  back  into  its  sheath. 

But  the  mutiny  was  not  yet  quelled.  These  were  men  not 
so  easily  conquered.  Fierce  exclamations  still  continued, 
and  the  mutineers  again  began  to  encourage  one  another 
with  shouts. 

I  had  thrown  myself  alongside  the  chief,  with  my  revolvers 
cocked  and  ready,  resolved  to  stand  by  him  to  the  death. 
Several  others  had  done  the  same ;  among  whom  were  Rube, 
Garey,  Sanchez  the  bull-fighter,  and  the  Maricopa. 

The  opposing  parties  were  nearly  equal,  and  a  fearful  con- 
flict would  have  followed  had  we  fought ;  but  at  this  moment 
an  object  appeared  that  stifled  the  resentment  of  all.  It  was 
the  common  enemy  ! 

Away  on  the  western  border  of  the  valley  we  could  see 
dark  objects,  hundreds  of  them,  coming  over  the  plain.  They 
were  still  at  a  great  distance,  but  the  practised  eyes  of  the 
hunters  knew  them  at  a  glance.  They  were  horsemen ;  they 
were  Indians  ;  they  were  our  pursuers  ;  the  Navajoes  1 

They  were  riding  at  full  gallop,  and  strung  over  the  prairie 
like  hounds  upon  a  run.     In  a  twinkling  they  would  be  on  us. 

"  Yonder !  "  cried  Seguin,  "  yonder  are  scalps  enough  to 
satisfy  you  ;  but  let  us  see  to  our  own.  Come  !  to  your 
horses  !  On  with  the  atajo  !  I  will  keep  my  word  with  you 
at  the  pass.     Mount !  my  brave  fellows,  mount  1  " 

The  last  speech  was  uttered  in  a  tone  of  reconciliation  ; 
but  it  needed  not  that  to  quicken  the  movements  of  the 
hunters.  They  knew  too  well  their  own  danger.  They 
could  have  sustained  the  attack  among  the  houses,  but  it 
would  only  have  been  until  the  return  of  the  main  tribe,  when 
they  knew  that  every  life  would  be  taken.  To  make  a  stand 
at  the  town  would  be  madness,  and  was  not  thought  of.     In 


THE   WHITE   SCALP.  327 

a  moment  we  were  in  our  saddles ;  and  the  atajo,  strung  out 
with  the  captives  and  provisions,  was  hurrying  off  toward  the 
woods.  We  purposed  passing  the  defile  that  opened  eastward, 
as  our  retreat  by  the  other  route  was  now  cut  off  by  the  ad- 
vancing horsemen. 

Seguin  had  thrown  himself  at  the  head,  leading  the  mule 
upon  which  his  daughter  was  mounted.  The  rest  followed, 
straggling  over  the  plain  without  rank  or  order. 

I  was  among  the  last  to  leave  the  town.  I  had  lingered 
behind  purposely,  fearing  some  outrage,  and  determined,  if 
possible,  to  prevent  it. 

"  At  length,"  thought  I,  "  they  have  all  gone  ;  "  and,  putting 
spurs  to  my  horse,  I  galloped  after. 

When  I  had  ridden  about  a  hundred  yards  from  the  walls, 
a  loud  yell  rang  behind  me  ;  and  reining  in  my  horse,  I  turned 
in  the  saddle  and  looked  back.  Another  yell,  wild  and  sav- 
age, directed  me  to  the  point  whence  the  former  had  come. 

On  the  highest  roof  of  the  temple  two  men  were  struggling. 
I  knew  them  at  a  glance  ;  and  I  knew,  too,  it  was  a  death- 
struggle.  One  was  the  medicine  chief,  as  I  could  tell  by  the 
flowing  white  hair.  The  scanty  skirt  and  leggings,  the  naked 
ankles,  the  close-fitting  skull-cap,  enabled  me  easily  to  dis- 
tinguish his  antagonist.     It  was  the  earless  trapper  ! 

The  conflict  was  a  short  one.  I  had  not  seen  the  begin- 
ning of  it,  but  I  soon  witnessed  the  denouement.  As  I  turned, 
the  trapper  had  forced  his  adversary  against  the  parapet,  and 
with  his  long  muscular  arm  was  bending  him  over  its  edge. 
In  the  other  hand,  uplifted,  he  brandished  his  knife  ! 

I  saw  a  quick  flash  as  the  blade  was  plunged ;  a  red  gush 
spurted  over  the  garments  of  the  Indian  ;  his  arms  dropped, 
his  body  doubled  over  the  wall,  balanced  a  moment,  and  then 
fell  with  a  dull  sodden  sound  upon  the  terrace  below  ! 

The  same  wild  whoop  again  rang  in  my  ears,  and  the  hun- 
ter disappeared  from  the  roof. 


328 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


I  turned  to  ride  on.  I  knew  it  was  the  settling  of  some 
old  account :  the  winding  up  of  some  terrible  revenge. 

The  clattering  of  hoofs  sounded  behind  me,  and  a  horse- 
man rode  up  alongside.  I  knew,  without  turning  my  head 
that  it  was  the  trapper. 

"  Fair  swop,  they  say,  ain't  no  stearin'.  Putty  har,  too,  it 
ur.  Wagh  !  It  won't  neyther  match  nor  patch  mine ;  but 
it  makes  one's  feelin's  easier." 

Puzzled  at  this  speech,  I  turned  to  ascertain  its  meaning. 
I  was  answered  by  the  sight  that  met  my  eye.  An  object 
was  hanging  from  the  old  man's  belt,  like  a  streak  of  snow- 
white  flax.  But  it  was  not  that.  It  was  hair.  It  was  a 
scalp  ! 

There  were  drops  of  blood  struggling  down  the  silvery 
strands  as  they  shook,  and  across  them,  near  the  middle,  was 
a  broad  red  band.  It  was  the  track  of  the  trapper's  knife 
where  he  had  wiped  it  I 


Beads  of  Wampum  Shells  and  Turquoise. 


CHAPTER  XL. 


THE    FIGHT    IN    THE    PASS. 


E  entered  the  woods,  and  fol- 
lowed the  Indian  trail  up  stream. 
We  hurried  forward  as  fast  as 
^  the  atajo  could  be  driven.  A 
scramble  of  five  miles  brought  us  to  the 
eastern  end  of  the  valley.  Here  the 
sierras  impinged  upon  the  river,  form- 
ing a  canon.  It  was  a  grim  gap,  similar  to  that  we  had  passed 
on  entering  from  the  west,  but  still  more  fearful  in  its  features. 
Unlike  the  former,  there  was  no  road  over  the  mountains  on 
either  side.  The  valley  was  headed  in  by  precipitous  cliffs, 
and  the  trail  lay  through  the  canon,  up  the  bed  of  the  stream. 
The  latter  was  shallow.  During  freshets  it  became  a  tor- 
rent ;  and  then  the  valley  was  inaccessible  from  the  east,  but 
that  was  a  rare  occurrence  in  these  rainless  regions. 

We  entered  the  canon  without  halting,  and  galloped  over 
the  detritus,  and  round  huge  boulders  that  lay  in  its  bed. 
Far  above  us  rose  the  frowning  cliffs,  thousands  of  feet  over- 
head. Great  rocks  scarped  out,  abutting  over  the  stream  ; 
shaggy  pines  hung  top  downward,  clinging  in  their  seams  j 

329 


330  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

shapeless  bunches  of  cacti  and  mezcals  crawled  along  the 
cliffs :  their  picturesque  but  gloomy  foliage  adding  to  the 
wildness  of  the  scene. 

It  was  dark  within  the  pass,  from  the  shadow  of  the  jut- 
ting masses  :  but  now  darker  than  usual,  for  black  storm- 
clouds  were  swathing  the  cliffs  overhead.  Through  these, 
at  short  intervals,  the  lightning  forked  and  flashed,  glancing 
in  the  water  at  our  feet.  The  thunder,  in  quick,  sharp  per- 
cussions, broke  over  the  ravine  ;  but  as  yet  it  rained  not. 

We  plunged  hurriedly  through  the  shallow  stream,  follow- 
ing the  guide.  There  were  places  not  without  danger,  where 
the  water  swept  around  angles  of  the  cliff,  with  an  impetu- 
osity that  almost  lifted  our  horses  from  their  feet ;  but  we 
had  no  choice,  and  we  scrambled  on,  urging  our  animals  with 
voice  and  spur. 

After  riding  for  a  distance  of  several  hundred  yards,  we 
reached  the  head  of  the  canon  and  climbed  out  on  the 
bank. 

"  Now,  cap'n,"  cried  the  guide,  reining  up,  and  pointing 
to  the  entrance,  "  hyur's  yur  place  to  make  stand.  We  kin 
keep  them  back  till  thur  sick  i'  the  guts ;  that's  what  we  kin 
do." 

"  You  are  sure  there  is  no  pass  that  leads  out  but  this 
one  ?  " 

"  Ne'er  a  crack  that  a  cat  kud  get  out  at ;  that  ur,  'ceptin' 
they  go  back  by  the  other  eend ;  an'  that'll  take  them  a 
round-about  o'  two  days,  I  reckin." 

"  We  will  defend  this,  then.  Dismount,  men  1  Throw 
yourselves  behind  the  rocks  !  " 

"  If  'ee  take  my  advice,  cap,  I'd  let  the  mules  and  weemen 
keep  for'ard,  with  a  lot  o'  the  men  to  look  arter  'em ;  them 
that's  ridin'  the  meanest  critters.  It'll  be  nose  an'  tail  when 
we  do  go  ;  and  if  they  starts  now,  yur  see  we  kin  easy  catch 
up  with  'em  t'other  side  o'  the  parairar." 


THE    FIGHT    IN   THE    PASS.  33 1 

"  You  are  right,  Rube  !  We  cannot  stay  long  here.  Our 
provisions  will  give  out.  They  must  move  ahead.  Is  that 
mountain  near  the  line  of  our  course,  think  you  ?  " 

As  Seguin  spoke,  he  pointed  to  a  snow-crowned  peak  that 
towered  over  the  plain,  far  off  to  the  eastward. 

"  The  trail  we  oughter  take  for  the  ole  mine  passes  clost 
by  it,  cap'n.  To  the  south'art  o'  yon  snowy,  thur's  a  pass  ; 
it's  the  way  I  got  clur  myself." 

"  Very  well ;  the  party  can  take  the  mountain  for  their 
guide.     I  will  despatch  them  at  once." 

About  twenty  men,  who  rode  the  poorest  horses,  were 
selected  from  the  band.  These,  guarding  the  atajo  and  cap- 
tives, immediately  set  out  and  rode  off  in  the  direction  of 
the  snowy  mountain.  El  Sol  went  with  this  party,  in  charge 
of  Dacoma  and  the  daughter  of  our  chief.  The  rest  of  us 
prepared  to  defend  the  pass. 

Our  horses  were  tied  in  a  defile  ;  and  we  took  our  stands 
where  we  could  command  the  embouchure  of  the  canon  with 
our  rifles. 

We  waited  in  silence  for  the  approaching  foe.  As  yet  no 
war-whoop  had  reached  us  ;  but  we  knew  that  our  pursuers 
could  not  be  far  off ;  and  we  knelt  behind  the  rocks,  strain- 
ing our  eyes  down  the  dark  ravine. 

It  is  difficult  to  give  an  idea  of  our  position  by  the  pen.  The 
ground  we  had  selected  as  the  point  of  defense  was  unique 
in  its  formation,  and  not  easily  described  ;  yet  it  is  necessary 
you  should  know  something  of  its  peculiar  character  in  order 
to  comprehend  what  followed. 

The  stream,  after  meandering  over  a  shallow,  shingly  chan- 
nel, entered  the  canon  through  a  vast  gate-like  gap,  between 
two  giant  portals.  One  of  these  was  the  abrupt  ending  of 
the  granite  ridge,  the  other  a  detached  mass  of  stratified 
rock.  Below  this  gate  the  channel  widened  for  a  hundred 
yards  or  so,  where  its  bed  was  covered  with  loose  boul- 


332  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

ders  and  logs  of  drift  timber.  Still  farther  down  the  cliffs 
approached  each  other,  so  near  that  only  two  horsemen  could 
ride  between  them  abreast  ;  and  beyond  this  the  chan- 
nel again  widened,  and  the  bed  of  the  stream  was  filled  with 
rocks :  huge  fragments  that  had  fallen  from  the  mountain. 

The  place  we  occupied  was  among  the  rocks  and  drift, 
within  the  canon,  and  below  the  great  gap  which  formed  its 
mouth.  We  had  chosen  the  position  from  necessity,  as  at 
this  point  the  bank  shelved  out  and  offered  a  way  to  the 
open  country,  by  which  our  pursuers  could  outflank  us,  should 
we  allow  them  to  get  so  far  up.  It  was  necessary,  therefore, 
to  prevent  this ;  and  we  placed  ourselves  to  defend  the  lower 
or  second  narrowing  of  the  channel.  We  knew  that  below  that 
point  beetling  cliffs  walled  in  the  stream  on  both  sides,  so  that 
it  would  be  impossible  for  them  to  ascend  out  of  its  bed.  If 
we  could  restrain  them  from  making  a  rush  at  the  shelving 
bank,  we  would  have  them  penned  up  from  any  farther  ad- 
vance. They  could  only  flank  our  position  by  returning  to 
the  valley,  and  going  about  by  the  western  end,  a  distance 
of  fifty  miles  at  the  least.  At  all  events,  we  should  hold 
them  in  check  until  the  atajo  had  got  a  long  start ;  and  then^ 
trusting  to  our  horses,  we  intended  to  follow  it  in  the  night. 
We  knew  that  in  the  end  we  should  have  to  abandon  the 
defense,  as  the  want  of  provisions  would  not  allow  us  to  hold 
out  for  any  length  of  time. 

At  the  command  of  our  leader  we  had  thrown  ourselves 
among  the  rocks.  The  thunder  was  now  pealing  over  our 
heads,  and  reverberating  through  the  canon.  Black  clouds 
rolled  along  the  cliffs,  split  and  torn  by  brilliant  jets.  Big 
drops,  still  falling  thinly,  slapped  down  upon  the  stones. 

As  Seguin  had  told  me,  rain,  thunder,  and  lightning  are 
rare  phenomena  in  these  regions ;  but  when  they  do  occur, 
it  is  with  that  violence  which  characterizes  the  storms  of  the 
tropics.     The  elements,  escaping  from  their  wonted  conti- 


THE    FIGHT    IN   THE    PASS.  333 

nence,  rage  in  fiercer  war.  The  long-gathering  electricity, 
suddenly  displaced  from  its  equilibrium,  seems  to  revel  in 
havoc,  rending  asunder  the  harmonies  of  nature. 

The  eye  of  the  geognosist,  in  scanning  the  features  of  this 
plateau  land,  could  not  be  mistaken  in  the  character  of  its 
atmosphere.  The  dread  canons,  the  deep  barrancas,  the 
broken  banks  of  streams,  and  the  clay-cut  channels  of 
the  arroyos,  all  testified  that  we  were  in  a  land  of  sudden 
floods. 

Away  to  the  east,  towards  the  head  waters  of  the  river, 
we  could  see  that  the  storm  was  raging  in  its  full  fury.  The 
mountains  in  that  direction  were  no  longer  visible.  Thick 
rain-clouds  were  descending  upon  them,  and  we  could  hear 
the  "  sough  "  of  the  falling  water.  We  knew  that  it  would 
soon  be  upon  us. 

"What's  keepin'  them  anyhow?  "  inquired  a  voice. 

Our  pursuers  had  time  to  have  been  up.  The  delay  was 
unexpected. 

"  The  Lord  only  knows  !  "  answered  another.  "  I  s'pose 
thar  puttin'  on  a  fresh  coat  o'  paint  at  the  town." 

"  They'll  get  their  paint  washed  off,  I  reckin.  Look  to 
yer  primin',  hosses!  that's  my  advice." 

"  By  gosh !  its  a-goin  to  come  down  in  spouts." 

"  That's  the  game,  boyees  !  hooray  for  that !  "  cried  old 
Rube. 

"  Why  ?     Do  you  want  to  git  soaked,  old  case  ?  " 

"  That's  adzactly  what  this  child  wants." 

"  Well,  it's  more  'n  I  do.  I'd  like  to  know  what  ye  want 
to  get  wet  for.  Do  ye  wish  to  put  your  old  carcass  into  an 
agey  ?  " 

"  If  it  rains  two  hours,  do  'ee  see,"  continued  Rube,  with- 
out paying  attention  to  the  last  interrogatory,  "  we  needn't 
stay  hyur,  do  'ee  see  ?  " 

"  Why  not,  Rube  ?  "  inquired  Seguin,  with  interest. 


334  THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  Why,  cap,"  replied  the  guide,  "  I've  seed  a  skift  o'  a 
shower  make  this  hyur  crik  that  'ee  wudn't  care  to  wade  it. 
Hooray  !  it  ur  a-comin',  sure  enuf  !     Hooray  !  " 

As  the  trapper  uttered  these  exclamations,  a  vast  black 
cloud  came  rolling  down  from  the  east,  until  its  giant  wings 
canopied  the  defile.  It  was  filled  with  rumbling  thunder, 
breaking  at  intervals  into  louder  percussions,  as  the  red  bolts 
passed  hissing  through  it.  From  this  cloud  the  rain  fell, 
not  in  drops,  but,  as  the  hunter  had  predicted,  in  "  spouts." 

The  men,  hastily  throwing  the  skirts  of  their  hunting-shirts 
over  their  gun-locks,  remained  silent  under  the  pelting  of  the 
storm. 

Another  sound,  heard  between  the  peals,  now  called  our 
attention.  It  resembled  the  continuous  noise  of  a  train  of 
wagons  passing  along  a  gravelly  road.  It  was  the  sound  of 
hoof-strokes  on  the  shingly  bed  of  the  canon.  It  was  the 
horse-tread  of  the  approaching  Navajoes  ! 

Suddenly  it  ceased.  They  had  halted.  For  what  pur- 
pose ?     Perhaps  to  reconnoiter. 

This  conjecture  proved  to  be  correct ;  for  in  a  few  mo- 
ments a  small  red  object  appeared  over  a  distant  rock.  It 
was  the  forehead  of  an  Indian,  with  its  vermilion  paint.  It 
was  too  distant  for  the  range  of  a  rifle,  and  the  hunters 
watched  it  without  moving. 

Soon  another  appeared,  and  another,  and  then  a  number 
of  dark  forms  were  seen  lurking  from  rock  to  rock,  as  they 
advanced  up  the  canon.  Our  pursuers  had  dismounted,  and 
were  approaching  us  on  foot. 

Our  faces  were  concealed  by  the  "  wrack  "  that  covered 
the  stones ;  and  the  Indians  had  not  yet  discovered  us. 
They  were  evidently  in  doubt  as  to  whether  we  had  gone  on, 
and  this  was  their  vanguard  making  the  necessary  reconnais- 
sance. 

In  a  short  time  the  foremost,  by  starts  and  runs,  had  got 


THE   FIGHT   IN   THE   PASS.  335 

clcse  up  to  the  narrow  part  of  the  canon.  There  was  a 
boulder  below  this  point,  and  the  upper  part  of  the  Indian's 
head  showed  itself  for  an  instant  over  the  rock.  At  the 
same  instant  half  a  dozen  rifles  cracked  ;  the  head  disap- 
pearec ;  and,  the  moment  after,  an  object  was  seen  down 
upon  the  pebbles,  at  the  base  of  the  boulder.  It  was  the 
brown  arm  of  the  savage,  lying  palm  upward.  We  knew 
that  the  leaden  messengers  had  done  their  work. 

The  pursuers,  though  at  the  expense  of  one  of  their  num- 
ber, had  now  ascertained  the  fact  of  our  presence,  as  well  as 
our  position  ;  and  the  advance  party  were  seen  retreating  as 
they  had  approached. 

The  men  who  had  fired  reloaded  their  pieces,  and,  kneel- 
ing down  as  before,  watched  with  sharp  eyes  and  cocked 
rifles. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  we  heard  anything  more  of  the 
enemy ;  but  we  knew  that  they  were  deliberating  on  some 
plan  of  attack. 

There  was  but  one  way  by  which  they  could  defeat  us :  by 
charging  up  the  canon,  and  fighting  us  hand-to-hand.  By  an 
attack  of  this  kind  their  main  loss  would  be  in  the  first  volley. 
They  might  ride  upon  us  before  we  could  reload  ;  and,  far 
outnumbering  us,  would  soon  decide  the  day  with  their  long 
lances.  We  knew  all  this ;  but  we  knew,  too,  that  a  first 
volley,  when  well  delivered,  invariably  staggers  an  Indian 
charge,  and  we  relied  on  such  a  hope  for  our  safety. 

We  had  arranged  to  fire  by  platoons,  and  thus  have  the 
advantage  of  a  second  discharge,  should  the  Indians  not  re- 
treat at  the  first. 

For  nearly  an  hour  the  hunters  crouched  under  the  drench- 
ing rain,  looking  only  to  keep  dry  the  locks  of  their  pieces. 
The  water,  in  muddy  rivulets,  began  to  trickle  through  the 
shingle,  and,  eddying  around  the  rocks,  covered  the  wide 
channel  in  which  we  now  stood,  ankle-deep.     Both  above 


336  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

and  below  us,  the  stream,  gathered  up  by  the  narrowing  of 
the  channel,  was  running  with  considerable  velocity. 

The  sun  had  set,  at  least  it  seemed  so,  in  the  dismal  ranne 
where  we  were.  We  were  growing  impatient  for  thi  ap- 
pearance of  our  enemy. 

"  Perhaps  they  have  gone  round,"  suggested  one. 

"  No  ;  thar  a-waitin'  till  night.     They'll  try  it  then.'' 

"  Let  'em  wait,  then,"  muttered  Rube,  "  ef  thur  green  enuf. 
A  half  an  hour  more  '11  do  ;  or  this  child  don't  understan' 
weather  signs." 

"  Hist !  hist !  "  cried  several  voices  together.  "  See ;  they 
are  coming !  " 

All  eyes  were  bent  down  the  pass.  A  crowd  of  dark  ob- 
jects appeared  in  the  distance,  filling  up  the  bed  of  the 
stream.  They  were  the  Indians,  and  on  horseback.  We 
knew  from  this  that  they  were  about  to  make  a  dash.  Their 
movements  too  confirmed  it.  They  had  formed  two-deep, 
and  held  their  bows  ready  to  deliver  a  flight  of  arrows  as 
they  galloped  up. 

"  Look  out,  boyees !  "  cried  Rube  ;  "  thur  a-comin'  now 
in  airnest.  Look  to  yur  sights,  and  give  'em  gos ;  do  'ee 
hear  ?  " 

As  the  trapper  spoke,  two  hundred  voices  broke  into  a 
simultaneous  yell.     It  was  the  war-cry  of  the  Navajoes  ! 

As  its  vengeful  notes  rang  upon  the  canon,  they  were  an- 
swered by  loud  cheers  from  the  hunters,  mingled  with  the 
wild  whoops  of  their  Delaware  and  Shawano  allies. 

The  Indians  halted  for  a  moment  beyond  the  narrowing 
of  the  canon,  until  those  who  were  rearmost  should  close  up. 
Then,  uttering  another  cry,  they  dashed  forward  into  the  gap. 

So  sudden  was  their  charge  that  several  of  them  had  got 
fairly  through  before  a  shot  was  fired.  Then  came  the  re- 
ports of  the  guns  ;  the  "  crack — crack — crack  "  of  rifles  ;  the 
louder  detonations  of  the  Spanish  pieces,  mingled  with  the 


THE    FIGHT    IN   THE    PASS.  337 

whizzing  sound  of  Indian  arrows.  Shouts  of  encourage- 
ment and  defiance  were  given  on  both  sides  ;  and  groans 
were  heard,  as  the  grooved  bullet  or  the  poisoned  barb  tore 
up  the  yielding  flesh. 

Several  of  the  Indians  had  fallen  at  the  first  volley.  A 
number  had  ridden  forward  to  the  spot  of  our  ambush,  and 
fired  their  arrows  in  our  faces.  But  our  rifles  had  not  all 
been  emptied ;  and  these  daring  savages  were  seen  to  drop 
from  their  saddles  at  the  straggling  and  successive  reports. 

The  main  body  wheeled  behind  the  rocks,  and  were  now 
forming  for  a  second  charge.  This  was  the  moment  of 
danger.  Our  guns  were  idle,  and  we  could  not  prevent  them 
from  passing  the  gap,  and  getting  through  to  the  open  coun- 
try. 

I  saw  Seguin  draw  his  pistol,  and  rush  forward,  calling 
upon  those  who  were  similarly  armed  to  follow  his  example. 
We  ran  after  our  leader  down  to  the  very  jaws  of  the  canon, 
and  stood  waiting  the  charge. 

It  was  soon  to  come  ;  for  the  enemy,  exasperated  by 
many  circumstances,  were  determined  on  our  destruction, 
cost  what  it  might.  Again  we  heard  their  fierce  war-cry, 
and  amidst  its  wild  echoes  the  savages  came  galloping  into 
the  gap. 

"  Now's  yur  time,"  cried  a  voice  ;  "  fire  !     Hooray  !  " 

The  cracks  of  fifty  pistols  were  almost  simultaneous.  The 
foremost  horses  reared  up  and  fell  back,  kicking  and  sprawl- 
ing in  the  gap.  They  fell,  as  it  were,  in  a  body,  completely 
choking  up  the  channel.  Those  who  came  on  behind  urged 
their  animals  forward.  Some  stumbled  on  the  heap  of  fallen 
bodies.  Their  horses  rose  and  fell  again,  trampling  both 
dead  and  living  among  their  feet.  Some  struggled  over 
and  fought  us  with  their  lances.  We  struck  back  with  our 
clubbed  guns,  and  closed  upon  them  with  our  knives  and 
tomahawks. 


33S  The  scalp-hunters. 

The  stream  rose  and  foamed  against  the  rocks,  pent  back 
by  the  prostrate  animals.  We  fought  thigh-deep  in  the 
gathering  flood.  The  thunder  roared  overhead,  and  the 
lightning  flashed  in  our  faces,  as  though  the  elements  took 
part  in  the  conflict ! 

The  yelling  continued  wild  and  vengeful  as  ever.  The 
hunters  answered  it  with  fierce  shouts.  Oaths  flew  from 
foaming  lips,  and  men  grappled  in  the  embrace  that  ended 
only  in  death  1 

And  now  the  water,  gathered  into  a  deep  dam,  lifted  the 
bodies  of  the  animals  that  had  hitherto  obstructed  it,  and 
swept  them  out  of  the  gap.  The  whole  force  of  the  enemy 
would  be  upon  us.  Good  heavens  !  they  are  crowding  up, 
and  our  guns  are  empty  ! 

At  this  moment  a  new  sound  echoed  in  our  ears.  It  was 
not  the  shouts  of  men,  nor  the  detonation  of  guns,  nor  the 
pealing  of  the  thunder.  It  was  the  hoarse  roaring  of  the 
torrent  ! 

A  warning  cry  was  heard  behind  us.  A  voice  called  out, 
"  Run  for  your  lives  1     To  the  bank  !  to  the  bank  !  " 

I  turned,  and  beheld  my  companions  rushing  for  the  slope, 
uttering  words  of  terror  and  caution.  At  the  same  instant  my 
eye  became  fixed  upon  an  approaching  object.  Not  twenty 
yards  above  where  I  stood,  and  just  entering  the  canon, 
came  a  brown  and  foaming  mass.  It  was  water,  bearing  on 
its  crested  front  huge  logs  of  drift  and  the  torn  branches  of 
trees.  It  seemed  as  though  the  sluice  of  some  great  dam 
had  been  suddenly  carried  away,  and  this  was  the  first  gush 
of  the  escaping  flood  ! 

As  I  looked  it  struck  the  portals  of  the  canon  with  a  con- 
cussion like  thunder  ;  and  then,  rearing  back,  piled  up  to  a 
height  of  twenty  feet.  The  next  moment  it  came  surging 
through  the  gap. 

I  heard  their  terrified  cry  as  the  Indians  wheeled  their 


THE   FIGHT   IN   THE   PASS.  339 

horses  and  fled.  I  ran  for  the  bank,  following  my  com- 
panions. I  was  impeded  by  the  water,  which  already 
reached  to  my  thighs;  but  with  desperate  energy  I  plunged 
and  weltered  through  it,  till  I  had  gained  a  point  of  safety. 

I  had  hardly  climbed  out  when  the  torrent  rolled  past 
with  a  hissing,  seething  sound.  I  stood  to  observe  it.  From 
where  I  was  I  could  see  down  the  ravine  for  a  long  reach. 
The  Indians  were  already  in  full  gallop,  and  I  saw  the  tails 
of  their  hindmost  horses  just  disappearing  round  the  rocks. 

The  bodies  of  the  dead  and  wounded  were  still  lying  in 
the  channel.  There  were  hunters  as  well  as  Indians.  The 
wounded  screamed  as  they  saw  the  coming  flood.  Those 
who  had  been  our  comrades  called  to  us  for  help  ;  we  could 
do  nothing  to  save  them.  Their  cries  had  hardly  reached 
us  when  they  were  lifted  upon  the  crest  of  the  whirling  cur- 
rent, like  so  many  feathers,  and  carried  off  with  the  velocity 
of  projectiles  ! 

"  Thar's  three  good  fellows  gone  under  !     Wagh !  " 

"  Who  are  they  ?  "  asked  Seguin,  and  the  men  turned 
round  with  inquiring  looks. 

"  Thar's  one  Delaware,  and  big  Jim  Harris,  and " 

"  Who  is  the  third  man  that's  missing  ?  Can  any  one 
tell  ?  " 

"  I  think,  captain,  it's  Kirker." 

"  It  is  Kirker,  by  the  'tarnal !  I  seed  him  down.  Wagh ! 
They'll  lift  his  har  to  a  sartinty." 

"  Ay,  they'll  fish  him  out  below.     That's  a  sure  case." 

"  They'll  fish  out  a  good  haul  o'  thur  own,  I  reckin.  It'll 
be  a  tight  race,  anyhow.  I've  heern  o'  a  horse  runnin'  agin 
a  thunder  shower ;  but  them  niggurs  '11  make  good  time,  if 
thur  tails  ain't  wet  afore  they  git  t'other  eend — they  will." 

As  the  trapper  spoke,  the  floating  and  still  struggling 
bodies  of  his  comrades  were  carried  to  a  bend  in  the  canon, 
and  whirled  out  of  sight.     The  channel  was  now  filled  with 


340 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


the  foaming  yellow  flood  that  frothed  against  the  rocks  as  it 
forged  onward. 

Our  danger  was  over  for  the  time.  The  canon  had  be- 
come impassable ;  and,  after  gazing  for  a  while  upon  the 
torrent,  most  of  us  with  feelings  of  awe,  we  turned  away, 
and  walked  toward  the  spot  where  we  had  left  our  horses. 


is 


CHAPTER  XLI. 


THE    BARRANCA. 


E  staked  our  horses  upon  the  open 
plain,  and,  returning  to  the  thicket, 
cut  down  wood  and  kindled  fires. 
We  felt  secure.  Our  pursuers,  even 
had  they  escaped  back  to  the  valley, 
could  not  now  reach  us,  except  by 
turning  the  mountains  or  waiting  for 
the  falling  of  the  flood 

We  knew  that  that  would  be  as 
sudden  as  its  rise,  should  the  rain  cease ;  but  the  storm  still 
raged  with  unabated  fury. 

We  could  soon  overtake  the  atajo  ;  but  we  determined  to 
remain  for  some  time  at  the  canon,  until  men  and  horses 
had  refreshed  themselves  by  eating.  -Both  were  in  need  of 
food,  as  the  hurried  events  of  the  preceding  days  had  given 
no  opportunity  for  a  regular  bivouac. 

The  fires  were  soon  blazing  under  shelter  of  the  over- 
hanging rocks ;  and  the  dried  meat  was  broiled  for  our 
suppers,  and  eaten  with  sufficient  relish.  Supper  ended,  we 
sat,  with  smoking  garments,  around  the  red  embers.  Several 
of  the  men  had  received  wounds.  These  were  rudely  dressed 
by  their  comrades,  the  doctor  having  gone  forward  with 
the  atajo. 

341 


342  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

We  remained  for  several  hours  by  the  canon.  The  tem- 
pest still  played  around  us,  and  the  water  rose  higher  and 
higher.  This  was  exactly  what  we  wished  for  ;  and  we  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  flood  increase  to  such  a  height 
that,  as  Rube  assured  us,  it  could  not  subside  for  hours.  It 
was  then  resolved  that  we  should  continue  our  journey. 

It  was  near  midnight  when  we  drew  our  pickets  and  rode 
off.  The  rain  had  partially  blinded  the  trail  made  by  El  Sol 
and  his  party,  but  the  men  who  now  followed  it  were  not 
much  used  to  guide-posts,  and  Rube,  acting  as  leader,  lifted 
it  at  a  trot.  At  intervals  the  flashes  of  lightning  showed  the 
mule  tracks  in  the  mud,  and  the  white  peak  that  beckoned 
us  in  the  distance. 

We  traveled  all  night.  An  hour  after  sunrise  we  over- 
took the  atajo,  near  the  base  of  the  snow  mountain^  We 
halted  in  the  mountain  pass  ;  and  after  a  short  while  spent 
in  cooking  and  eating  breakfast,  continued  our  journey 
across  the  sierra.  The  road  led  through  a  dry  ravine,  into 
an  open  plain  that  stretched  east  and  south  beyond  the  reach 
of  our  vision.     It  was  a  desert. 

I  will  not  detail  the  events  that  occurred  to  us  in  the  pas- 
sage of  that  terrible  Jornada.  They  were  similar  to  those  we 
experienced  in  the  deserts  to  the  west.  We  suffered  from 
thirst,  making  one  stretch  of  sixty  miles  without  water.  We 
passed  over  sage-covered  plains,  without  a  living  object  to 
break  the  death-like  monotony  that  extended  around  us.  We 
cooked  our  meals  over  the  blaze  of  the  artemisia.  But  our 
provisions  gave  out ;  and  the  pack-mules,  one  by  one,  fell 
under  the  knives  of  the  hungry  hunters.  By  night  we  camped 
without  fires  :  we  dared  not  kindle  them  ;  for  though,  as  yet, 
no  pursuers  had  appeared,  we  knew  they  must  be  on  our 
trail.  We  had  traveled  with  such  speed  that  they  had  not 
been  able  to  come  up  with  us. 


THE    BARRANCA.  343 

For  three  days  we  headed  towards  the  southeast.  On  the 
evening  of  the  third  we  descried  the  Mimbres  mountains 
towering  up  on  the  eastern  border  of  the  desert.  The  peaks 
of  these  were  well  known  to  the  hunters,  and  became  our 
guides  as  we  journeyed  on. 

We  approached  the  Mimbres  in  a  diagonal  direction,  as 
it  was  our  purpose  to  pass  through  the  sierra  by  the  route 
of  the  old  mine,  once  the  prosperous  property  of  our  chief. 
To  him  every  feature  of  the  landscape  was  a  familiar  object. 
I  observed  that  his  spirits  rose  as  we  proceeded  onward. 

At  sundown  we  reached  the  head  of  the  Barranca  del  Oro  ; 
a  vast  cleft  that  traversed  the  plain  leading  down  to  the  de- 
serted mine.  This  chasm,  like  a  fissure  caused  by  some 
terrible  earthquake,  extended  for  a  distance  of  twenty  miles. 
On  either  side  was  a  trail ;  for  on  both  the  table-plain  ran  in 
horizontally  to  the  very  lips  of  the  abyss.  About  midway  to 
the  mine,  on  the  left  brow,  the  guide  knew  of  a  spring,  and 
we  proceeded  toward  this  with  the  intention  of  camping  by 
the  water. 

We  dragged  wearily  along.  It  was  near  midnight  when 
we  arrived  at  the  spring.  Our  horses  were  unsaddled  and 
staked  on  the  open  plain. 

Here  Seguin  had  resolved  that  we  should  rest  longer  than 
usual.  A  feeling  of  security  had  come  over  him  as  he  ap- 
proached these  well-remembered  scenes. 

There  was  a  thicket  of  young  cotton  trees  and  willows 
fringing  the  spring,  and  in  the  heart  of  this  a  fire  was  kin- 
dled. Another  mule  was  sacrificed  to  the  manes  of  hunger ; 
and  the  hunters,  after  devouring  the  tough  steaks,  flung 
themselves  upon  the  ground  and  slept.  The  horse-guard 
only,  out  by  the  caballada,  stood  leaning  upon  his  rifle  silent 
and  watchful. 

Resting  my  head  in  the  hollow  of  my  saddle,  I  lay  down 
by  the  fire.     Seguin  was  near  me  with  his  daughter.     The 


344  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

Mexican  girls  and  the  Indian  captives  lay  clustered  over  the 
ground,  wrapped  in  their  tilmas  and  striped  blankets.  They 
were  all  asleep,  or  seemed  so. 

I  was  as  wearied  as  the  rest,  but  my  thoughts  kept  me 
awake.  My  mind  was  busy  with  the  bright  future.  "  Soon," 
thought  I,  "  shall  I  escape  from  these  horrid  scenes  ;  soon 
shall  I  breathe  a  purer  atmosphere  in  the  sweet  companion- 
ship of  my  beloved  Zoe.  Beautiful  Zoe  !  before  two  days 
have  passed  I  shall  again  be  with  you,  hold  you  to  my  bosom, 
press  your  impassioned  lips,  call  you  my  loved :  my  own  1 
Again  shall  we  wander  through  the  silent  garden  by  the 
the  river  groves ;  again  shall  we  sit  upon  the  moss-grown 
seats  in  the  still  evening  hours ;  again  shall  we  utter  .hose 
wild  words  that  caused  our  hearts  to  vibrate  with  mutual 
happiness  !  Zoe,  pure  and  innocent  as  the  angels."  The 
child-like  simplicity  of  that  question — "  Enrique,  what  is  to 
marry  ?  "  Ah !  sweet  Zoe  !  you  shall  soon  learn.  Ere  long 
I  shall  teach  you.  Ere  long  wilt  thou  be  mine  ;  forever 
mine! 

"  Zoe  ?  Zoe  !  are  you  awake  ?  Do  you  lie  sleepless  on  your 
soft  couch  ?  or  am  I  present  in  your  dreams  ?  Do  you  long 
for  my  return,  as  I  to  hasten  it  ?  Oh  that  the  night  were 
past !  I  cannot  wait  for  rest.  I  could  ride  on  sleepless — 
tireless — on- — on  !  " 

My  eye  rested  upon  the  features  of  Adele,  upturned  and 
shining  in  the  blaze  of  the  fire.  I  traced  the  outlines  of  her 
sister's  face  :  the  high,  noble  front,  the  arched  eyebrow,  and 
the  curving  nostril.  But  the  brightness  of  complexion  was 
not  there ;  the  smile  of  angelic  innocence  was  not  there. 
The  hair  was  dark,  the  skin  browned ;  and  there  was  a  wild- 
ness  in  the  expression  of  the  eye  stamped,  no  doubt,  by  the 
experience  of  many  a  savage  scene.  Still  was  she  beautiful, 
but  it  was  beauty  of  a  far  less  spiritual  order  than  that  of 
my  betrothed. 


THE    BARRANCA.  345 

Her  bosom  rose  and  fell  in  short,  irregular  pulsations. 
Once  or  twice,  while  I  was  gazing,  she  half  awoke,  and 
muttered  some  words  in  the  Indian  tongue.  Her  sleep  was 
troubled  and  broken. 

During  the  journey,  Seguin  had  waited  upon  her  with  all 
the  tender  solicitude  of  a  father  ;  but  she  had  received  his 
attentions  with  indifference,  or  at  most  regarded  them  with  a 
cold  thankfulness.  It  was  difficult  to  analyze  the  feelings 
that  actuated  her.  Most  of  the  time  she  remained  silent  and 
sullen. 

The  father  endeavored,  once  or  twice,  to  resuscitate  the 
memories  of  her  childhood,  but  without  success;  and  with 
sorrow  at  his  heart  he  had  each  time  relinquished  the  attempt. 

I  thought  he  was  asleep.  I  was  mistaken.  On  looking 
more  attentively  in  his  face,  I  saw  that  he  was  regarding  her 
with  deep  interest,  and  listening  to  the  broken  phrases  that 
fell  from  her  lips.  There  was  a  picture  of  sorrow  and 
anxiety  in  his  look  that  touched  me  to  the  heart. 

As  I  watched  him,  the  girl  murmured  some  words,  to  me 
unintelligible,  but  among  them  I  recognized  the  name 
"  Dacoma." 

I  saw  that  Seguin  started  as  he  heard  it. 

"  Poor  child  !  "  said  he,  seeing  that  I  was  awake  ;  "  she 
is  dreaming,  and  a  troubled  dream  it  is.  I  have  half  a  mind 
to  wake  her  out  of  it." 

"  She  needs  rest,"  I  replied. 

"  Ay,  if  that  be  rest.     Listen  !  again  '  Dacoma.'  " 

"  It  is  the  name  of  the  captive  chief." 

"  Ay ;  they  were  to  have  been  married,  according  to  their 
laws." 

"  But  how  did  you  learn  this  ?  " 

"  From  Rube  :  he  heard  it  while  he  was  a  prisoner  at  the 
town." 

"  And  did  she  love  him,  do  you  think  ?  " 


346  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  No.  It  appears  not.  She  had  been  adopted  as  the 
daughter  of  the  medicine  chief,  and  Dacoma  claimed  her  for 
a  wife.  On  certain  conditions  she  was  to  have  been  given 
to  him  ;  but  she  feared,  not  loved  him,  as  her  words  now 
testify.     Poor  child  !  a  wayward  fate  has  been  hers." 

"  In  two  journeys  more  her  sufferings  will  be  over.  She 
will  be  restored  to  her  home,  to  her  mother." 

"  Ah !  if  she  should  remain  thus  it  will  break  the  heart  of. 
my  poor  Adele." 

"  Fear  not,  my  friend.  Time  will  restore  her  memory.  I 
think  I  have  heard  of  a  parallel  circumstance  among  the 
frontier  settlements  of  the  Mississippi." 

"  Oh !  true ;  there  have  been  many.  We  will  hope  for 
the  best." 

"  Once  in  her  home  the  objects  that  surrounded  her  in 
her  younger  days  may  strike  a  chord  in  her  recollection. 
She  may  yet  remember  all.     May  she  not  ?  " 

"  Hope  1  hope  !  " 

"At  all  events,  the  companionship  of  her  mother  and 
sister  will  soon  win  her  from  the  thoughts  of  savage  life. 
Fear  not !     She  will  be  your  daughter  again." 

I  urged  these  ideas  for  the  purpose  of  giving  consolation. 
Seguin  made  no  reply ;  but  I  saw  that  the  painful  and 
anxious  expression  still  remained  clouding  his  features. 

My  own  heart  was  not  without  its  heaviness.  A  dark 
foreboding  began  to  creep  into  it  from  some  undefined  cause. 
Were  his  thoughts  in  communion  with  mine  ? 

"  How  long,"  I  asked,  "  before  we  can  reach  your  house 
on  the  Del  Norte'  ?  " 

I  scarce  knew  why  I  was  prompted  to  put  this  question. 
Some  fear  that  we  were  still  in  peril  from  the  pursuing  foe  ? 

"  The  day  after  to-morrow,"  he  replied,  "  by  the  evening. 
Heaven  grant  we  may  find  them  safe  !  " 

I  started  as  the  words  issued  from  his  lips.     They  had 


THE    BARRANCA.  347 

brought  pain  in  an  instant.  This  was  the  true  cause  of  my 
undefined  forebodings. 

"  You  have  fears  ?  "  I  inquired  hastily. 

"  I  have." 

"  Of  what  ?  of  whom  ?  " 

"  The  Navajoes." 

"  The  Navajoes  !  " 

"  Yes.  My  mind  has  not  been  easy  since  I  saw  them  go 
eastward  from  the  Pifion.  I  cannot  understand  why  they 
did  so,  unless  they  meditated  an  attack  on  some  settlements 
that  lie  on  the  old  Llanos'  trail.  If  not  that,  my  fears  are 
that  they  have  made  a  descent  on  the  valley  of  El  Paso, 
perhaps  on  the  town  itself.  One  thing  may  have  prevented 
them  from  attacking  the  town  :  the  separation  of  Dacoma's 
party,  which  would  leave  them  too  weak  for  that ;  but  still 
the  more  danger  to  the  small  settlements  both  north  and 
south  of  it." 

The  uneasiness  I  had  hitherto  felt  arose  from  an  expres- 
sion which  Seguin  had  dropped  at  the  Pifion  spring.  My 
mind  had  dwelt  upon  it,  from  time  to  time,  during  our  desert 
journeyings  ;  but  as  he  did  not  speak  of  it  afterwards,  I 
thought  that  he  had  not  attached  so  much  importance  to  it. 
I  had  reasoned  wrongly. 

"  It  is  just  probable,"  continued  the  chief,  "  that  the  Pase- 
hos  may  defend  themselves.  They  have  done  so  heretofore, 
with  more  spirit  than  any  of  the  other  settlements,  and  hence 
their  long  exemption  from  being  plundered.  Partly  that, 
and  partly  because  our  band  has  protected  their  neighbor- 
hood for  a  length  of  time,  which  the  savages  well  know.  It 
it  to  be  hoped  that  the  fear  of  meeting  with  us  will  prevent 
them  from  coming  into  the  Jornada,  north  of  the  town.  If 
so,  ours  have  escaped." 

"  God  grant,"  I  faltered,  "  that  it  may  be  thus  !  " 

"  Let  us  sleep,"  added  Seguin.     "  Perhaps  our  apprehen- 


348  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

sions  are  idle,  and  they  can  benefit  nothing.  To-morrow 
we  shall  march  forward  without  halt,  if  our  animals  can  bear 
it.     Go  to  rest,  my  friend ;  you  have  not  much  time." 

So  saying,  he  laid  his  head  in  his  saddle,  and  composed 
himself  to  sleep.  In  a  short  while,  as  if  by  an  act  of  volition, 
he  appeared  to  be  in  a  profound  slumber. 

With  me  it  was  different.  Sleep  was  banished  from  my 
eyes,  and  I  tossed  about  with  a  throbbing  pulse  and  a  brain 
filled  with  fearful  fancies.  The  very  reaction  from  the 
bright  dreams  in  which  I  had  just  been  indulging  rendered 
my  apprehensions  painfully  active.  I  began  to  imagine 
scenes  that  might  be  enacting  at  that  very  moment :  my 
betrothed  struggling  in  the  arms  of  some  licentious  savage ; 
for  these  southern  Indians,  I  knew,  possessed  none  of  that 
cold  continence  and  chivalrous  delicacy  that  characterize 
the  red  men  of  the  "  forest." 

I  fancied  her  carried  into  a  rude  captivity ;  becoming  the 
"  squaw  "  of  some  brutal  brave ;  and  with  the  agony  of  the 
thought  I  rose  to  my  feet  and  rushed  out  upon  the  prairie. 

Half  frantic,  I  wandered,  not  heeding  whither  I  went.  I 
must  have  walked  for  hours,  but  I  took  no  note  of  the  time. 

I  strayed  back  upon  the  edge  of  the  barranca.  The  moon 
was  shining  brightly,  but  the  grim  chasm,  yawning  away  into 
the  earth  at  my  feet,  lay  buried  in  silence  and  darkness. 
My  eye  could  not  pierce  its  fathomless  gloom. 

I  saw  the  camp  and  the  caballada  far  above  me  on  the 
bank :  but  my  strength  was  exhausted,  and,  giving  way  to 
my  weariness,  I  sank  down  upon  the  very  brink  of  the  abyss. 
The  keen  torture  that  had  hitherto  sustained  me  was  followed 
by  a  feeling  of  utter  lassitude.  Sleep  conquered  agony,  and 
I  slept. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 


THE    FOE. 


MUST  have  slept  an  hour  or  more. 
Had  my  dreams  been  realities  they 
would  have  filled  the  measure  of  an 
age.  At  length  the  raw  air  of  the 
morning  chilled  and  awoke  me.  The 
moon  had  gone  down,  for  I  remembered  that  she  was 
close  to  the  horizon  when  I  last  saw  her.  Still  it  was 
far  from  being  dark,  for  I  could  see  to  a  considerable  dis- 
tance through  the  fog. 

"  Perhaps  the  day  is  breaking,"  thought  I,  and  I  turned 
my  face  to  the  east.  It  was  as  I  had  guessed  :  the  eastern 
sky  was  streaked  with  light ;  it  was  morning. 

I  knew  it  was  the  intention  of  Seguin  to  start  early,  and  I 
was  about  summoning  resolution  to  raise  myself  when  voices 
broke  on  my  ear.  There  were  short  exclamatory  phrases 
and  hoof-strokes  upon  the  prairie  turf. 

"  They  are  up,  and  preparing  to  start."  With  this 
thought,  I  leaped  to  my  feet,  and  commenced  hurrying  to- 
wards the  camp. 

I  had  not  walked  ten  paces  when  I  became  conscious  that 
the  voices  were  behind  me  / 

349 


350  THE  SCALP-HUNTERS. 

- 

I  stopped  and  listened.  Yes ;  beyond  a  doubt  I  was 
going  from  them. 

"  I  have  mistaken  the  way  to  the  camp  1 "  and  I  stepped 
forward  to  the  edge  of  the  barranca  for  the  purpose  of  assur- 
ing myself.  What  was  my  astonishment  to  find  that  I  had 
been  going  in  the  right  direction,  and  that  the  sounds  were 
coming  from  the  opposite  quarter. 

My  first  thought  was  that  the  band  had  passed  me  and 
were  moving  on  the  route. 

"  But  no ;  Seguin  would  not.  Oh !  he  has  sent  out  a 
party  to  search  for  me  :  it  is  they." 

I  called  out  "  Hilloa  1  "  to  let  them  know  where  I  was. 
There  was  no  answer ;  and  I  shouted  again,  louder  than 
before.  All  at  once  the  sounds  ceased.  I  knew  the  horse- 
men were  listening,  and  I  called  once  more  at  the  top  of  my 
voice.  There  was  a  moment's  silence ;  then  I  could  hear  a 
muttering  of  many  voices  and  the  trampling  of  horses  as  they 
galloped  towards  me. 

I  wondered  that  none  of  them  had  yet  answered  my 
signal :  but  my  wonder  was  changed  into  consternation  when 
I  perceived  that  the  approaching  party  were  on  the  other  side 
of  the  barranca  I 

Before  I  could  recover  from  my  surprise,  they  were 
opposite  me  and  reining  up  on  the  bank  of  the  chasm. 
They  were  still  three  hundred  yards  distant ;  the  width  of 
the  gulf ;  but  I  could  see  them  plainly  through  the  thin  and 
filmy  fog.  There  appeared  in  all  about  a  hundred  horse- 
men ;  and  their  long  spears,  their  plumed  heads,  and  half- 
naked  bodies,  told  me  at  a  glance  they  were  India?is  f 

I  stayed  to  inquire  no  further,  but  ran  with  all  my  speed 
for  the  camp.  I  could  see  the  horsemen  on  the  opposite 
cliff  keeping  pace  with  me  at  a  slow  gallop. 

On  reaching  the  spring  I  found  the  hunters  in  surprise, 
and  vaulting  into  their  saddles.     Seguin  and  a  few  others 


THE   FOE.  35l 

had  gone  out  on  the  extreme  edge,  and  were  looking  over. 
They  had  not  thought  of  an  immediate  retreat,  as  the  enemy, 
having  the  advantage  of  the  light,  had  already  discovered 
the  strength  of  our  party. 

Though  only  a  distance  of  three  hundred  yards  separated 
the  hostile  bands,  twenty  miles  would  have  to  be  passed 
before  they  could  meet  in  battle.  On  this  account  Seguin 
and  the  hunters  felt  secure  for  the  time ;  and  it  was  hastily 
resolved  to  remain  where  we  were,  until  we  had  examined 
who  and  what  were  our  opponents. 

They  had  halted  on  the  opposite  bank,  and  sat  in  their 
saddles  gazing  across.  They  seemed  puzzled  at  our  appear- 
ance. It  was  still  too  dark  for  them  to  distinguish  our  com- 
plexions. Soon,  however,  it  grew  clearer ;  our  peculiar  dress 
and  equipments  were  recognized  ;  and  a  wild  yell,  the  Nav- 
ajo war-cry,  came  pealing  over  the  abyss  I 

"  It's  Dacoma's  party  !  "  cried  a  voice,  "  they  have  taken 
the  wrong  side  o'  the  gully." 

"  No,"  exclaimed  another,  "  thar's  too  few  o'  them  for 
Dacoma's  men.     Thar  ain't  over  a  hundred." 

"  Maybe  the  flood  tuk  the  rest,"  suggested  the  first 
speaker. 

"  Wagh  !  how  could  they  'a  missed  our  trail,  that's  as  plain 
as  a  wagon-track  ?    'Tain't  them  nohow." 

"  Who  then  ?  It's  Navagh.  I  kud  tell  thar  yelp  if  I  wur 
sleepin'." 

"  Them's  head-chief's  niggurs,"  said  Rube,  at  this  moment 
riding  forward  "  Look  'ee !  yonder 's  the  ole  skunk  hisself, 
on  the  spotted  hoss  !  " 

"  You  think  it  is  they,  Rube  ?  "  inquired  Seguin. 

"  Sure  as  shootin',  cap." 

"  But  where  are  the  rest  of  his  band  ?  These  are  not  all." 

"  They  ain't  far  off,  I'll  be  boun'."  Hish-sh  1  I  hear  them 
a-comin'." 


352  THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  Yonder's  a  crowd !     Look,  boys,  look  I  " 

Through  the  fog,  now  floating  away,  a  dark  body  of 
mounted  men  were  seen  coming  up  the  opposite  side.  They 
advanced  with  shouts  and  ejaculations,  as  though  they  were 
driving  cattle.  It  was  so.  As  the  fog  rose  up,  we  could  see 
a  drove  of  horses,  horned  cattle,  and  sheep,  covering  the 
plain  to  a  great  distance.  Behind  these  rode  mounted 
Indians,  who  galloped  to  and  fro,  goading  the  animals  with 
their  spears,  and  pushing  them  forward. 

"  Lord,  what  a  plunder !  "  exclaimed  one  of  the  hunters. 

"  Ay,  them's  the  fellows  have  made  something  by  thar  expe- 
dition.     We  are  comin'  back  empty  as  we  went.     Wagh  !  " 

I  'had  been  engaged  in  saddling  my  horse,  and  at  this 
moment  came  forward.  It  was  not  upon  the  Indians  that  my 
eye  rested,  nor  upon  the  plundered  cattle.  Another  object 
attracted  my  gaze,  and  sent  the  blood  curdling  to  my  heart. 

Away  in  the  rear  of  the  advancing  drove  I  saw  a  small 
party,  distinct  from  the  rest.  Their  light  dresses  fluttering 
in  the  wind  told  me  that  they  were  not  Indians.  They  were 
women  ;  they  were  captives  ! 

There  appeared  to  be  about  twenty  in  all :  but  my  feelings 
were  such  that  I  took  little  heed  of  their  number.  I  saw 
that  they  were  mounted,  and  that  each  was  guarded  by  an 
Indian,  who  rode  by  her  side. 

With  a  palpitating  heart  I  passed  my  eye  over  the  group 
from  one  to  the  other  ;  but  the  distance  was  too  great  to  dis- 
tinguish the  features  of  any  of  them. 

I  turned  towards  the  chief.  He  was  standing  with  the 
glass  to  his  eye.  I  saw  him  start ;  his  cheek  suddenly 
blanched  ;  his  lips  quivered  convulsively,  and  the  instrument 
fell  from  his  fingers  to  the  ground !  With  a  wild  look  he 
staggered  back,  crying  out — 

"  Mon  Dieu  /  Mon  Dieu  /  O  God !  thou  hast  stricken  me 
now ! " 


THE    FOE.  353 

I  snatched  up  the  telescope  to  assure  myself.  But  it 
needed  not  that.  As  I  was  raising  it  an  object  running 
along  the  opposite  side  caught  my  eye.  It  was  the  dog 
Alp  !  I  leveled  the  glass,  and  the  next  moment  was  gaz- 
ing through  it  on  the  face  of  my  betrothed ! 

So  close  did  she  seem  that  I  could  hardly  restrain  myself 
from  calling  to  her.  I  could  distinguish  her  pale,  beauti- 
ful features.  Her  cheek  was  wan  with  weeping,  and  her  rich 
golden  hair  hung  disheveled  from  her  shoulders,  reaching  to 
the  withers  of  her  horse.  She  was  covered  with  a  sempe, 
and  a  young  Indian  rode  beside  her,  mounted  upon  a  showy 
horse  and  dressed  in  the  habiliments  of  a  Mexican  hussar ! 

I  looked  at  none  of  the  others,  though  a  glance  showed  me 
her  mother  in  the  string  of  captives  that  came  after. 

The  drove  of  horses  and  cattle  soon  passed  up,  and  the 
females  with  their  guards  arrived  opposite  us.  The  captives 
were  left  back  on  the  prairie,  while  the  warriors  rode  forward 
to  where  their  comrades  had  halted  by  the  brow  of  the  bar- 
ranca. 

It  was  now  bright  day ;  the  fog  had  cleared  away,  and 
across  the  impassable  gulf  the  hostile  bands  stood  gazing  at 
each  other  1 


23 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 


NEW  MISERY. 


T  was  a  most  singular  rencontre.  Here 
were  two  parties  of  men,  heart-foes  to 
one  another,  each  returning  from  the 
country  of  the  other,  loaded  with 
plunder  and  carrying  a  train  of  cap- 
tives !  They  had  met  midway,  and  stood  within  musket 
range,  gazing  at  each  other  with  feelings  of  the  most  bitter 
hostility,  and  yet  a  conflict  was  as  impossible  as  though 
twenty  miles  of  the  earth's  surface  lay  between  them. 

On  one  side  were  the  Navajoes,  with  consternation  in  their 
looks,  for  the  warriors  had  recognized  their  children.  On 
the  other  stood  the  scalp-hunters,  not  a  few  of  whom,  in  the 
captive  train  of  their  enemies,  could  distinguish  the  features 
of  a  wife,  a  sister,  or  a  daughter. 

Each  gazed  upon  the  other  with  hostile  hearts  and  glances 
of  revenge.  Had  they  met  thus  on  the  open  prairie,  they 
would  have  fought  to  the  death.  It  seemed  as  though  the 
hand  of  God  had  interposed  to  prevent  the  ruthless  shedding 
of  blood,  which,  but  for  the  gulf  that  lay  between  these  foe- 
men,  would  certainly  have  ensued. 

354 


NEW   MISERY.  355 

I  cannot  describe  how  I  felt  at  the  moment.  I  remember 
that,  all  at  once,  I  was  inspired  with  new  vigor  both  of  mind 
and  body.  Hitherto  I  had  been  little  more  than  a  passive 
spectator  of  the  events  of  our  expedition.  I  had  been  act- 
ing without  any  stimulating  heart-motive ;  now  I  had  one 
that  roused  me  to  desperate  energy. 

A  thought  occurred  to  me,  and  I  ran  up  to  communicate  it. 
Seguin  was  beginning  to  recover  from  the  terrible  blow.  The 
men  had  learnt  the  cause  of  his  strange  behavior,  and  stood 
around  him,  some  of  them  endeavoring  to  console  him.  Few 
of  them  knew  aught  of  the  family  affairs  of  their  chief,  but 
they  had  heard  of  his  earlier  misfortunes  ;  the  loss  of  his 
mine,  the  ruin  of  his  property,  the  captivity  of  his  child.  Now, 
when  it  became  known  that  among  the  prisoners  of  the  enemy 
were  his  wife  and  daughter,  even  the  rude  hearts  of  the 
hunters  were  touched  with  pity  at  his  more  than  common 
sufferings.  Compassionate  exclamations  were  heard  from 
them,  mingled  with  expressions  of  their  determination  to  re- 
store the  captives  or  die  in  the  attempt. 

It  was  with  the  intention  of  exciting  such  a  feeling  that  I 
had  come  forward.  It  was  my  design,  out  of  my  small  stock 
of  world's  wealth,  to  set  a  premium  on  devotedness  and  valor, 
but  I  saw  that  nobler  motives  had  anticipated  me,  and  I  re- 
mained silent. 

Seguin  seemed  pleased  at  the  loyalty  of  his  comrades,  and 
began  to  exhibit  his  wonted  energy,  Hope  again  had  pos- 
session of  him.  The  men  clustered  round  him  to  offer  their 
advice  and  listen  to  his  directions. 

"  We  can  fight  them,  capt'n,  even-handed,"  said  the  trap- 
per Garey.     "  Thar  ain't  over  two  hundred." 

"  Jest  a  hundred  and  ninety-six,"  interposed  a  hunter, 
"  without  the  weemen.  I've  counted  them ;  that's  thar 
number." 

"  Wal,"  continued  Garey,  "  thar's  some  difference  atween 


356  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

us  in  point  o'  pluck,  I  reckin  ;  and  what's  wantin'  in  number 
we'll  make  up  wi'  our  rifles.  I  never  valleys  two  to  one  wi' 
Injuns,  an'  a  trifle  throw'd  in,  if  ye  like." 

"  Look  at  the  ground,  Bill !  It's  all  plain.  Whar  would 
we  be  after  a  volley  ?  They'd  have  the  advantage  wi'  their 
bows  and  lances.  Wagh !  they  could  spear  us  to  pieces 
thar !  " 

"  I  didn't  say  we  would  take  them  on  the  paraira.  We  kin 
foller  them  till  they're  in  the  mountains,  an'  git  them  among 
the  rocks.     That's  what  I  advise." 

"  Ay.  They  can't  run  away  from  us  with  that  drove. 
That's  sartin." 

"  They  have  no  notion  of  running  away.  They  will  most 
likely  attack  us" 

"  That's  jest  what  we  want,"  said  Garey.  "  We  kin  go 
yonder,  and  fight  them  till  they've  had  a  bellyful." 

The  trapper,  as  he  spoke,  pointed  to  the  foot  of  the  Mim- 
bres,  that  lay  about  ten  miles  off  to  the  eastward. 

"  Maybe  they'll  wait  till  more  comes  up.  There's  more  of 
head-chief's  party  than  these  ;  there  were  nearly  four  hundred 
when  they  passed  the  Pihon." 

"  Rube,  where  can  the  rest  of  them  be  ?  "  demanded  Seguin, 
"  I  can  see  down  to  the  mine,  and  they  are  not  upon  the  plain." 

"  Ain't  a-gwine  to  be,  cap.  Some  luck  in  that,  I  reckin. 
The  ole  fool  has  sent  a  party  by  t'other  trail.  On  the  wrong 
scent — them  is." 

"  Why  do  you  think  they  have  gone  by  the  other  trail  ?  " 

"  Why,  cap,  it  stans  for  raizon.  If  they  wur  a-comin'  ahint, 
some  o'  them  niggurs  on  t'other  side  wud  'a  gone  back  afore 
this  to  hurry  'em  up,  do  'ee  see  ?  Thur  hain't  gone  ne'er  a 
one,  as  I  seed." 

"  You  are  right,  Rube,"  replied  Seguin,  encouraged  by  the 
probability  of  what  the  other  had  asserted.  "  What  do  you 
advise  us  ?  "  continued  he,  appealing  to  the  old  trapper,  whose 


NEW  MISERY.  357 

counsel  he  was  in  the  habit  of  seeking  in  all  cases  of  similar 
difficulty. 

"  Wal,  cap,  it's  a  twistified  piece  o'  business  as  it  stans ; 
an'  I  hain't  figured  it  out  to  my  satersfaction  jest  yet.  If 
'ee'll  gi  me  a  kupple  o'  minutes,  I'll  answer  ye  to  the  best  o' 
my  possibilities." 

"  Very  well ;  we  will  wait  for  you.  Men  !  look  to  your 
arms,  and  see  that  they  are  all  in  readiness." 

During  this  consultation,  which  had  occupied  but  a  few 
seconds  of  time,  we  could  see  that  the  enemy  was  similarly 
employed  on  the  other  side.  They  had  drawn  around  their 
chief,  and  from  their  gesticulations  it  was  plain  they  were 
deliberating  how  they  should  act. 

Our  appearance,  with  the  children  of  their  principal  men 
as  captives,  had  filled  them  with  consternation  at  what  they 
saw,  and  apprehensions  of  a  fearful  kind  for  what  they  saw 
not.  Returning  from  a  successful  foray,  laden  with  spoil, 
and  big  with  the  prospect  of  feasting  and  triumph,  they  sud- 
denly preceived  themselves  out-generaled  at  their  own  game. 
They  knew  we  had  been  to  their  town.  They  conjectured 
that  we  had  plundered  and  burnt  their  houses,  and  massacred 
their  women  and  children.  They  fancied  no  less  ;  for  this 
was  the  very  work  in  which  they  had  themselves  been  en- 
gaged, and  their  judgment  was  drawn  from  their  own  conduct. 

They  saw  moreover  that  we  were  a  large  party,  able  to 
defend  what  we  had  taken,  at  least  against  them ;  for  they 
knew  well  that  with  their  fire-arms  the  scalp-hunters  were  an 
overmatch  for  them,  when  there  was  anything  like  an  equality 
of  numbers. 

With  these  ideas,  then,  it  required  deliberation  on  their 
part,  as  well  as  with  us ;  and  we  knew  that  it  would  be  some 
time  before  they  would  act.     They,  too,  were  in  a  dilemma. 

The  hunters  obeyed  the  injunctions  of  Seguin,  and  re- 
mained silent,  waiting  upon  Rube  to  deliver  his  advice. 


358  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

The  old  trapper  stood  apart,  half  resting  upon  his  rifle, 
which  he  clutched  with  both  hands  near  the  muzzle.  He 
had  taken  out  the  "  stopper,"  and  was  looking  into  the  barrel, 
as  if  he  were  consulting  some  oracular  spirit  that  he  kept 
bottled  up  within  it.  It  was  one  of  Rube's  peculiar  "  ways," 
and  those  who  knew  this  were  seen  to  smile  as  they  watched 
him. 

After  a  few  minutes  spent  in  this  silent  entreaty,  the  oracle 
seemed  to  have  sent  forth  its  response ;  and  Rube,  returning 
the  stopper  to  its  place,  came  walking  forward  to  the  chief. 

"  Billee's  right,  cap.  If  them  Injuns  must  be  fit,  it's  got 
to  be  did  whur  thur's  rocks  or  timmer.  They'd  whip  us  to 
shucks  on  the  paraira.  That's  settled.  Wal,  thur's  two 
things ;  they'll  eyther  come  at  us  ;  if  so  be,  yander's  our 
ground  "  (here  the  speaker  pointed  to  a  spur  of  the  Mimbres ; 
"  or  we'll  be  obleeged  to  foller  them.  If  so  be.  we  can  do  it 
as  easy  as  fallin'  off  a  log.     They  ain't  over  leg-free." 

"  But  how  should  we  do  for  provisions,  in  that  case  ?  We 
could  never  cross  the  desert  without  them." 

"  Why,  cap,  thur's  no  difeeculty  'bout  that.  Wi'  the  pa- 
rairas  as  dry  as  they  are,  I  kud  stampede  that  hul  cavayard 
as  easy  as  a  gang  o'  bufflers  ;  and  we'd  come  in  for  a  share 
o'  them,  I  reckin.  Thur's  a  wus  thing  than  that,  this  child 
smells." 

"  What  ?  " 

"  I'm  afeerd  we  mout  fall  in  wi'  Dacoma's  niggurs  on  the 
back  track;  that's  what  I'm  afeerd  on." 

"  True;  it  is  most  probable." 

"  It  ur,  unless  they  got  overtuk  in  the  kenyon  ;  an'  I  don't 
think  it.     They  understan'  that  crik  too  well." 

The  probability  of  Dacoma's  band  soon  joining  those  of 
the  head  chief  was  apparent  to  all,  and  cast  a  shadow  of 
despondency  over  every  face.  They  were,  no  doubt,  still  in 
pursuit  of  us,  and  would  soon  arrive  on  the  ground. 


NEW   MISERY.  359 

"  Now,  cap,"  continued  the  trapper,  "  I've  gi'n  ye  my 
notion  o'  things,  if  so  be  we're  boun'  to  fight ;  but  I  have 
my  behopes  we  kin  get  back  the  weemen  'ithout  wastin'  our 
gun-fodder." 

"  How  ?  how  ?  "  eagerly  inquired  the  chief  and  others. 

"  Why,  jest  this  a-way,"  replied  the  trapper,  almost  irritat- 
ing me  with  the  prolixity  of  his  style.  "  'Ee  see  them  Injuns 
on  t'other  side  o'  the  gulley  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  hastily  replied  Seguin. 

"  Wal ;  'ee  see  these  hyur  ?  "  and  the  speaker  pointed  to 
our  captives. 

"Yes,  yesl" 

"  Wal ;  'ee  see  them  over  yander,  though  thur  hides  be  a 
coppery  color,  has  feelins  for  thur  childer  like  white  Chris- 
tyuns.  They  eat  em  by  times,  that's  true  ;  but  thur's  a  re- 
leegius  raizon  for  that,  not  many  hyur  understands,  I  reckin." 

"  And  what  would  you  have  us  do  ?  " 

"  Why,  jest  heist  a  bit  o'  a  white  rag  an'  offer  to  swop 
pris'ners.  They'll  understan'  it,  and  come  to  tarms,  I'll  be 
boun'.  That  putty  leetle  gal  with  the  long  har's  head  chief's 
darter,  an'  the  rest  belongs  to  main  men  o'  the  tribe :  I 
picked  'em  for  that.  Besides,  thur's  Dacoma  an'  the  young 
queen.  They'll  bite  thur  nails  off  about  them.  'Ee  kin  give 
up  the  chief,  and  trade  them  out  o'  the  queen  best  way  ye  kin." 

"  I  will  follow  your  advice,"  cried  Seguin,  his  eye  bright- 
ening with  the  anticipation  of  a  happy  result. 

"  Thur's  no  time  to  be  wasted,  then,  cnp  ;  if  Dacoma's 
men  makes  thur  appearance,  all  I've  been  a-sayin'  won't  be 
worth  the  skin  o'  a  sand-rat." 

"  Not  a  moment  shall  be  lost ;  "  and  Seguin  gave  orders 
to  make  ready  the  flag  of  peace. 

"  It  'ud  be  better,  cap,  fust  to  gi'  them  a  good  sight  o' 
what  we've  got.  They  hain't  seed  Dacoma  yet,  nor  the 
queen.     Thur  in  the  bushes." 


360  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  Right !  "  answered  Seguin.  "  Comrades  !  bring  forward 
the  captives  to  the  edge  of  the  barranca.  Bring  the  Navajo 
chief.     Bring  the my  daughter  !  " 

The  men  hurried  to  obey  the  command  ;  and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  captive  children,  with  Dacoma  and  the  mystery 
queen,  were  led  forward  to  the  very  brink  of  the  chasm. 
The  serapes  that  had  shrouded  them  were  removed,  and  they 
stood  exposed  in  their  usual  costumes  before  the  eyes  of  the 
Indians.  Dacoma  still  wore  his  helmet,  and  the  queen  was 
conspicuous  in  the  rich  plume-embroidered  tunic.  They 
were  at  once  recognized  1 

A  cry  of  singular  import  burst  from  the  Navajoes  as  they 
beheld  these  new  proofs  of  their  discomfiture.  The  warriors 
unslung  their  lances,  and  thrust  them  into  the  earth  with  im- 
potent indignation.  Some  of  them  drew  scalps  from  their 
belts,  struck  them  on  the  points  of  their  spears,  and  shook 
them  at  us  over  the  brow  of  the  abyss.  They  believed 
that  Dacoma's  band  had  been  destroyed,  as  well  as  their 
women  and  children  ;  and  they  threatened  us  with  shouts  and 
gestures. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this,  we  noticed  a  movement  among 
the  more  staid  warriors.     A  consultation  was  going  on. 

It  ended.  A  party  were  seen  to  gallop  toward  the  cap- 
tive women,  who  had  been  left  far  back  upon  the  plain. 

"  Great  heavens  !  "  cried  I,  struck  with  a  horrid  idea, 
"  they  are  going  to  butcher  them  !     Quick  with  the  flag  1  " 

But  before  the  banner  could  be  attached  to  its  staff,  the 
Mexican  women  were  dismounted,  their  rebozos  pulled  off, 
and  they  were  led  forward  to  the  precipice. 

It  was  only  meant  for  a  counter-vaunt,  the  retaliation  of  a 
pang ;  for  it  was  evident  the  savages  knew  that  among  their 
captives  were  the  wife  and  daughter  of  our  chief.  These 
were  placed  conspicuously  in  front,  upon  the  very  brow  of 
the  barranca. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 


THE  FLAG  OF  TRUCE. 


[HEY  might  have  spared  themselves 
the  pains.  That  agony  was  already 
felt ;  but,  indeed,  a  scene  followed  that 
caused  us  to  suffer  afresh. 
Up  to  this  moment  we  had  not  been 
recognized  by  those  near  and  dear  to  us.  The  distance  had 
been  too  great  for  the  naked  eye,  and  our  browned  faces 
and  travel-stained  habiliments  were  of  themselves  a  dis- 
guise. 

But  the  instincts  of  love  are  quick  and  keen,  and  the  eyes 
of  my  betrothed  were  upon  me.  I  saw  her  start  forward  ;  I 
heard  the  agonized  scream ;  a  pair  of  snow-white  arms  were 
extended,  and  she  sank,  fainting,  upon  the  cliff. 

At  the  same  instant  Madame  Seguin  had  recognized  the 
chief,  and  had  called  to  him  by  name.  Seguin  shouted  to 
her  in  reply,  and  cautioned  her  in  tones  of  entreaty  to  remain 
patient  and  silent. 

Several  of  the  other  females,  all  young  and  handsome, 
had  recognized  their  lovers  and  brothers,  and  a  scene  fol- 
lowed that  was  painful  to  witness. 

But  my  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her.  I  saw  that  she  re- 
covered from  her  swoon.     I  saw  the  savage  in  hussar  trap- 

361 


362  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

pings  dismount,  and,  lifting  her  in  his  arms,  carry  her  back 
upon  the  prairie. 

I  followed  them  with  impotent  gaze.  I  saw  that  he  was 
paying  her  kind  attentions ;  and  I  almost  thanked  him, 
though  I  knew  it  was  but  the  selfish  gallantry  of  the 
lover. 

In  a  short  while  she  rose  to  her  feet  again,  and  rushed 
back  toward  the  barranca.  I  heard  my  name  uttered  across 
the  ravine.  Hers  was  echoed  back ;  but  at  the  moment 
both  mother  and  daughter  were  surrounded  by  their  guards 
and  carried  back. 

Meanwhile,  the  white  flag  had  been  got  ready,  and  Seguin, 
holding  it  aloft,  stood  out  in  front.  We  remained  silent, 
watching  with  eager  glances  for  the  answer. 

There  was  a  movement  among  the  clustered  Indians. 
We  heard  their  voices  in  earnest  talk,  and  saw  that  some- 
thing was  going  on  in  their  midst. 

Presently,  a  tall,  fine-looking  man  came  out  from  the 
crowd,  holding  an  object  in  his  left  hand  of  a  white  color. 
It  was  a  bleached  fawn-skin.  In  his  right  hand  he  carried 
a  lance. 

We  saw  him  place  the  fawn-skin  on  the  blade  of  the  lance, 
and  stand  forward  holding  it  aloft.  Our  signal  of  peace  was 
answered. 

"  Silence,  men  1  "  cried  Seguin,  speaking  to  the  hunters  ; 
and  then,  raising  his  voice,  he  called  aloud  in  the  Indian 
language — 

"  Navajoes  !  you  know  whom  we  are.  We  have  passed 
through  your  country,  and  visited  your  head  town.  Our 
object  was  to  search  for  our  dear  relatives,  who  we  knew 
were  captives  in  your  land.  Some  we  have  recovered,  but 
there  are  many  others  we  could  not  find.  That  these  might 
be  restored  to  us  in  time,  we  have  taken  hostages,  as  you 
see.     We  might  have  brought  away  many  more,  but  these 


THE   FLAG   OF  TRUCE.  363 

we  considered  enough.  We  have  not  burned  your  town  ; 
we  have  not  harmed  your  wives,  your  daughters,  nor  your 
children.  With  the  exception  of  these,  our  prisoners,  you 
will  find  all  as  you  left  them." 

A  murmur  ran  through  the  ranks  of  the  Indians.  It  was 
a  murmur  of  satisfaction.  They  had  been  under  the  full  be- 
lief that  their  town  was  destroyed  and  their  women  massa- 
cred ;  and  the  words  of  Seguin,  therefore,  produced  a  singular 
effect.  We  could  hear  joyful  exclamations  and  phrases  in- 
terchanged among  the  warriors.  Silence  was  again  restored, 
and  Seguin  continued — 

"  We  see  that  you  have  been  in  our  country.  You  have 
made  captives  as  well  as  we.  You  are  red  men.  Red  men 
can  feel  for  their  kindred  as  well  as  white  men.  We  know 
this  ;  and  for  that  reason  have  I  raised  the  banner  of  peace, 
that  each  may  restore  to  the  other  his  own.  It  will  please 
the  Great  Spirit,  and  will  give  satisfaction  to  both  of  us  ;  for 
that  which  you  hold  is  of  most  value  to  us,  and  that  which 
we  have  is  dear  only  to  you.  Navajoes  !  I  have  spoken. 
I  await  your  answer." 

When  Seguin  had  ended,  the  warriors  gathered  around 
the  head  chief,  and  we  could  see  that  an  earnest  debate 
was  going  on  amongst  them.  It  was  plain  there  were  dis- 
senting voices  ;  but  the  debate  was  soon  over,  and  the  head 
chief,  stepping  forward,  gave  some  instructions  to  the  man 
who  held  the  flag.  The  latter  in  a  loud  voice  replied  to 
Seguin's  speech  as  follows  : — 

"  White  chief  !  you  have  spoken  well,  and  your  words  have 
been  weighed  by  our  warriors.  You  ask  nothing  more  than 
what  is  just  and  fair.  It  would  please  the  Great  Spirit  and 
satisfy  us  to  exchange  our  captives ;  but  how  can  we  tell  that 
your  words  are  true  ?  You  say  that  you  have  not  burned 
our  town  nor  harmed  our  women  and  children.  How  can 
we  know  that  this  is  true  ?     Our  town  is  far  off  ;  so  are  our 


364  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

women,  if  they  be  still  alive.     We  cannot  ask  them.     We 
have  only  your  word.     It  is  not  enough." 

Seguin  had  already  anticipated  this  difficulty,  and  had  or- 
dered one  of  our  captives,  an  intelligent  lad,  to  be  brought 
forward. 

The  boy  at  this  moment  appeared  by  his  side. 

"  Question  him  !  "  shouted  he,  pointing  to  the  captive 
lad. 

"  And  why  may  we  not  question  our  brother,  the  chief 
Dacoma  ?  The  lad  is  young.  He  may  not  understand  us. 
The  chief  could  assure  us  better." 

"  Dacoma  was  not  with  us  at  the  town.  He  knows  not 
what  was  done  there." 

"  Let  Dacoma  answer  that." 

"  Brother !  "  replied  Seguin,  "  you  are  wrongly  supicious, 
but  you  shall  have  his  answer,"  and  he  addressed  some  words 
to  the  Navajo  chief,  who  sat  near  him  upon  the  ground. 

The  question  was  then  put  directly  to  Dacoma  by  the 
speaker  on  the  other  side.  The  proud  Indian,  who  seemed 
exasperated  with  the  humiliating  situation  in  which  he  was 
placed,  with  an  angry  wave  of  his  hand  and  a  short  ejacula- 
tion answered  in  the  negative. 

"  Now,  brother,"  proceeded  Seguin,  "  you  see  I  have  spo- 
ken truly.     Ask  the  lad  what  you  first  proposed." 

The  boy  was  then  interrogated  as  to  whether  we  had  burnt 
the  town  or  harmed  the  women  and  children.  To  these  two 
questions  he  also  returned  a  negative  answer. 

"  Well,  brother,"  said  Seguin,   "  are  you  satisfied  ?  " 

For  a  long  time  there  was  no  reply.  The  warriors  were 
again  gathered  in  council,  and  gesticulating  with  earnestness 
and  energy.  We  could  see  that  there  was  a  party  opposed 
to  pacific  measures,  who  were  evidently  counseling  the  others 
to  try  the  fortune  of  a  battle.  These  were  the  younger 
braves ;  and  I  observed  that  he  in  the  hussar  costume,  who, 


THE    FLAG   OF   TRUCE.  365 

as  Rube  informed  us,  was  the  son  of  the  head  chief,  appeared 
to  be  the  leader  of  this  party. 

Had  not  the  head  chief  been  so  deeply  interested  in  the 
result,  the  counsels  of  these  might  have  carried ;  for  the  war- 
riors well  knew  the  scorn  that  would  await  them  among 
neighboring  tribes  should  they  return  without  captives.  Be- 
sides, there  were  numbers  who  felt  another  sort  of  interest  in 
detaining  them.  They  had  looked  upon  the  daughters  of  the 
Del  Norte,  and  "  saw  that  they  were  fair." 

But  the  counsels  of  the  older  men  at  length  prevailed,  and 
the  spokesman  replied  : — 

"  The  Navajo  warriors  have  considered  what  they  have 
heard.  They  believe  that  the  white  chief  has  spoken  the 
truth,  and  they  agree  to  exchange  their  prisoners.  That  this 
may  be  done  in  a  proper  and  becoming  manner,  they  propose 
that  twenty  warriors  be  chosen  on  each  side ;  that  these  war- 
riors shall  lay  down  their  arms  on  the  prairie  in  presence  of 
all ;  that  they  shall  then  conduct  their  captives  to  the  crossing 
of  the  barranca  by  the  mine,  and  there  settle  the  terms  of 
their  exchange  ;  that  all  the  others  on  both  sides  shall  remain 
where  they  now  are  until  the  unarmed  warriors  have  got  back 
with  the  exchanged  prisoners ;  that  the  white  banners  shall 
then  be  struck,  and  both  sides  be  freed  from  the  treaty. 
These  are  the  words  of  the  Navajo  warriors. 

It  was  some  time  before  Seguin  could  reply  to  this  propo- 
sal. It  seemed  fair  enough  ;  but  yet  there  was  a  maimer 
about  it  that  led  us  to  suspect  some  design,  and  we  paused 
a  moment  to  consider  it.  The  concluding  terms  intimated 
an  intention  on  the  part  of  the  enemy  of  making  an  attempt 
to  retake  their  captives  ;  but  we  cared  little  for  this,  provided 
we  could  once  get  them  on  our  side  of  the  barranca. 

It  was  very  proper  that  the  prisoners  should  be  conducted 
to  the  place  of  exchange  by  unarmed  men,  and  twenty  was 
a  proper  number  ;  but  Seguin  well  knew  how  the  Navajoes 


366  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

would  interpret  the  word  "  unarmed  ;  "  and  several  of  the 
hunters  were  cautioned  in  an  undertone  to  "  stray  "  into  the 
bushes,  and  conceal  their  knives  and  pistols  under  the  flaps 
of  their  hunting  shirts.  We  thought  that  we  observed  a 
similar  maneuver  going  on  upon  the  opposite  bank  with  the 
tomahawks  of  our  adversaries. 

We  could  make  but  little  objection  to  the  terms  proposed ; 
and  as  Seguin  knew  that  time  saved  was  an  important  object, 
he  hastened  to  accept  them. 

As  soon  as  this  was  announced  to  the  Navajoes,  twenty- 
men — already  chosen,  no  doubt — stepped  out  into  the  open 
prairie,  and  striking  their  lances  into  the  ground,  rested 
against  them  their  bows,  quivers,  and  shields.  We  saw  no 
tomahawks,  and  we  knew  that  every  Navajo  carries  this  wea- 
pon. They  all  had  the  means  of  concealing  them  about 
their  persons  ;  for  most  of  them  were  dressed  in  the  garb  of 
civilized  life ;  in  the  plundered  habiliments  of  the  rancho  and 
the  hacienda.  We  cared  little,  as  we,  too,  were  sufficiently 
armed.  We  saw  that  the  party  selected  were  men  of  power- 
ful strength.  In  fact,  they  were  the  picked  warriors  of  the 
tribe. 

Ours  were  similarly  chosen.  Among  them  were  El  Sol 
and  Garey,  Rube,  and  the  bull-fighter  Sanchez.  Seguin  and 
I  were  of  the  number.  Most  of  the  trappers,  with  a  few 
Delaware  Indians,  completed  the  complement. 

The  twenty  were  soon  selected  ;  and,  stepping  out  on  the 
open  ground,  as  the  Navajoes  had  done,  we  piled  our  rifles 
in  the  presence  of  the  enemy. 

Our  captives  were  then  mounted  and  made  ready  for  start- 
ing. The  queen  and  the  Mexican  girls  were  brought  for- 
ward among  the  rest. 

This  last  was  a  piece  of  strategy  on  the  part  of  Seguin. 
He  knew  that  we  had  captives  enough  to  exchange  one  for 
one,  without  these  ;  but  he  saw,  as  we  all  did,  that  to  leave 


THE   FLAG   OF  TRUCE. 


367 


the  queen  behind  would  interrupt  the  negotiation,  and  per- 
haps put  an  end  to  it  altogether.  He  had  resolved,  therefore, 
on  taking  her  along,  trusting  that  he  could  better  negotiate 
for  her  on  the  ground.  Failing  this,  there  would  be  but 
one  appeal — to  arms  :  and  he  knew  that  our  party  was  well 
prepared  for  that  alternative. 

Both  sides  were  at  length  ready,  and,  at  a  signal,  com- 
menced riding  down  the  barranca,  in  the  direction  of  the 
mine.  The  rest  of  two  bands  remained  eyeing  each  other 
across  the  gulf,  with  glances  of  mistrust  and  hatred.  Nei- 
ther party  could  move  without  the  other  seeing  it ;  for  the 
plains  in  which  they  were,  though  on  opposite  sides  of  the 
barranca,  were  but  segments  of  the  same  horizontal  plateau. 
A  horseman  proceeding  from  either  party  could  have  been 
seen  by  the  others  to  a  distance  of  many  miles. 

The  flags  of  truce  were  still  waving,  their  spears  stuck  into 
the  ground :  but  each  of  the  hostile  bands  held  their  horses 
saddled  and  bridled,  ready  to  mount  at  the  first  movement 
of  the  other. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 


A  VEXED  TREATY. 

I  THIN  the  barranca  was 

the   mine.     The   shafts, 

rude    diggings,    pierced 

the  cliffs  on  both  sides, 

like  so  many  caves.     The  bottom 

between  the  cliffs  was  bisected  by 

a  rivulet   that   murmured    among 

loose  rocks. 

On  the  banks  of  this  rivulet 
stood  the  old  smelting-houses  and 
ruined  ranches  of  the  miners. 
Most  of  them  were  roofless  and 
crumbling  to  decay.  The  ground 
about  them  was  shaggy  and  choked  up.  There  were  briers, 
mezcal  plants,  and  cacti ;  all  luxuriant,  hirsute,  and  thorny. 
Approaching  this  point,  the  road  on  each  side  of  the  bar- 
ranca suddenly  dips,  the  trails  converging  downward,  and 
meeting  among  the  ruins. 

When  in  view  of  these,  both  parties  halted,  and  signaled 
each  other  across  the  ravine.  After  a  short  parley,  it  was 
proposed  by  the  Navajoes  that  the  captives  and  horses  should 
remain  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  each  train  to  be  guarded  by 
two  men.  The  rest,  eighteen  on  each  side,  should  descend 
to  the  bottom  of  the  barranca,  meet  among  the  houses,  and, 
368 


A  VEXED  TREATY. 


369 


having   smoked   the    calumet,  arrange  the  terms  of  the  ex- 
change. 

Neither  Seguin  nor  I  liked  this  proposal.  We  saw  that, 
in  the  event  of  a  rupture  in  the  negotiation  (a  thing  we  more 
than  half  anticipated),  even  should  our  party  overpower  the 
other,  we  could  gain  nothing.  Before  we  could  reach  the 
Navajo  captives,  up  the  steep  hill,  the  two  guards  would 
hurry  them  off ;  or  (we  dreaded  to  think  of  it)  butcher  them 


Indian  Peace  Pipes. 

on  the  ground  !     It  was  a  fearful  thought,  but  there  was 
nothing  improbable  in  it. 

We  knew,  moreover,  that  smoking  the  peace-pipe  would 
be  another  waste  of  time  ;  and  we  were  on  thorns  about  the 
approach  of  Dacoma's  party. 

But  the  proposal  had  come  from  the  enemy,  and  they  were 
obstinate.     We   could  urge  no   objections  to  it  without  be- 
traying our  designs  ;  and  we  were  compelled,  though  loth,  to 
accept  it. 
24 


37°  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

We  dismounted,  leaving  our  horses  in  charge  of  the  guard, 
and  descending  into  the  ravine,  stood  face  to  face  with  the 
warriors  of  Navajo. 

They  were  eighteen  picked  men ;  tall,  broad-shouldered, 
and  muscular.  The  expression  of  their  faces  was  savage, 
subtle,  and  grim.  There  was  not  a  smile  to  be  seen,  and 
the  lip  that  at  that  moment  had  betrayed  one  would  have 
lied.  There  was  hate  in  their  hearts  and  vengeance  in  their 
looks. 

For  a  moment  both  parties  stood  scanning  each  other  in 
silence.  These  were  no  common  foes ;  it  was  no  common 
hostility  that  for  years  had  nerved  them  against  each  other ; 
and  it  was  no  common  cause  that  had  now,  for  the  first  time, 
brought  them  face  to  face  without  arms  in  their  hands.  A 
mutual  want  had  forced  them  to  their  present  attitude  of 
peace,  though  it  was  more  like  a  truce  between  the  lion  and 
tiger  which  have  met  in  an  avenue  of  the  jungly  forest,  and 
stand  eyeing  one  another. 

Though  by  agreement  without  arms,  both  were  sufficiently 
armed,  and  they  knew  that  of  each  other. 

The  handles  of  tomahawks,  the  hafts  of  knives,  and  the 
shining  butts  of  pistols,  peeped  carelessly  out  from  the 
dresses  both  of  hunters  and  Indians.  There  was  little  effort 
made  to  conceal  these  dangerous  toys,  and  they  were  on 
all  sides  visible. 

At  length  our  mutual  reconnaissance  came  to  a  period,  and 
we  proceeded  to  business. 

There  happened  to  be  no  breadth  of  ground  clear  of  weeds 
and  thorny  rubbish,  where  we  could  seat  ourselves  for  the 
"  smoke."  Seguin  pointed  to  one  of  the  houses,  an  adobe 
structure  in  a  tolerable  state  of  preservation,  and  several 
entered  to  examine  it.  The  building  had  been  used  as  a 
smelting-house,  and  broken  trucks  and  other  implements 
were  lying  over  the  floor.     There  was  but  one  apartment, 


A  VEXED   TREATY.  37l 

not  a  large  one  either,  and  near  its  center  stood  a  brazero 
covered  with  cold  slag  and  ashes. 

Two  men  were  appointed  to  kindle  a  fire  upon  the 
brazero  ;  and  the  rest,  entering,  took  their  seats  upon  the 
trucks  and  masses  of  quartz  rock  ore  that  lay  around  the 
room. 

As  I  was  about  seating  myself,  an  object  leaped  against 
me  from  behind,  uttering  a  low  whine  that  ended  in  a  bark. 
I  turned,  and  beheld  the  dog  Alp.  The  animal,  frenzied 
with  delight,  rushed  upon  me  repeatedly  ;  and  it  was  some 
time  before  I  could  quiet  him  and  take  my  place. 

At  length  we  all  were  seated  upon  opposite  sides  of  the 
fire,  each  party  forming  the  arc  of  a  circle,  concave  to  the 
other. 

There  was  a  heavy  door  still  hanging  upon  its  hinge ; 
and  as  there  were  no  windows  in  the  house,  this  was  suffered 
to  remain  open.     It  opened  to  the  inside. 

The  fire  was  soon  kindled,  and  the  clay-stone  calumet 
filled  with  "  kini-kinik."  It  was  then  lighted,  and  passed 
from  mouth  to  mouth  in  profound  silence. 

We  noticed  that  each  of  the  Indians,  contrary  to  their 
usual  custom  of  taking  a  whiff  or  two,  smoked  long  and 
slowly.  We  knew  it  was  a  ruse  to  protract  the  ceremony  and 
gain  time  ;  while  we — I  answer  for  Seguin  and  myself — were 
chafing  at  the  delay. 

When  the  pipe  came  round  to  the  hunters,  it  passed  in 
quicker  time. 

"  The  unsocial  smoke  was  at  length  ended,  and  the  nego- 
tiation began. 

At  the  very  commencement  of  the  "  talk."  I  saw  that  we 
were  going  to  have  a  difficulty.  The  Navajoes,  particularly 
the  younger  warriors,  assumed  a  bullying  and  exacting  atti- 
tude that  the  hunters  were  not  likely  to  brook ;  nor  would 
they  have  submitted  to  it  for  a  moment  but  for  the  peculiar 


372  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

position  in  which  their  chief  was  placed.  For  his  sake  they 
held  in  as  well  as  they  could  ;  but  the  tinder  was  apparent, 
and  would  not  bear  many  sparks  before  it  blazed  up. 

The  first  question  was  in  relation  to  the  number  of  the 
prisoners.  The  enemy  had  nineteen,  while  we,  without  in- 
cluding the  queen  or  the  Mexican  girls,  numbered  twenty- 
one.  This  was  in  our  favor  ;  but,  to  our  surprise,  the  In- 
dians insisted  that  their  captives  were  grown  women,  that 
most  of  ours  were  children,  and  that  two  of  the  latter  should 
be  exchanged  for  one  of  the  former ! 

To  this  absurdity  Seguin  replied  that  we  could  not  agree  ; 
but,  as  he  did  not  wish  to  keep  any  of  their  prisoners,  he 
would  exchange  the  twenty-one  for  the  nineteen. 

"  Twenty-one  !  "  exclaimed  a  brave  ;  "  why,  you  have 
twenty-seven.     We  counted  them  on  the  bank." 

"  Six  of  those  you  counted  are  our  own  people.  They  are 
whites  and  Mexicans." 

"  Six  whites  !  "  retorted  the  savage  ;  "  there  are  but  five. 
Who  is  the  sixth  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  it  is  our  queen  ;  she  is  light  in  color.  Perhaps 
the  pale  chief  has  mistaken  her  for  a  white  !  " 

"  Ha  1  ha  1  ha  1  "  roared  the  savages  in  a  taunting  laugh. 
"  Our  queen  a  white  !     Ha  I  ha  !  ha  !  " 

"Your  queen,"  said  Seguin,  in  a  solemn  voice;  "your 
queen,  as  you  call  her,  is  my  daughter." 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  "  again  howled  they,  in  scornful  chorus  ; 
"  your  daughter  !  Ha  !  ha !  ha  I  "  and  the  room  rang  with 
their  demoniac  laughter. 

"  Yes !  "  repeated  he,  in  a  loud  but  faltering  voice,  for  he 
now  saw  the  turn  that  things  were  taking.  "  Yes,  she  is  my 
daughter." 

"  How  can  that  be  ?  "  demanded  one  of  the  braves,  an 
orator  of  the  tribe.  "  You  have  a  daughter  among  our  cap- 
tives ;  we  know  that.     She  is  white  as  the  snow  upon  the 


.-.;+  A   VEXED   TREATY.  373 

mountain  top.  Her  hair  is  yellow  as  the  gold  upon  these 
armlets.  The  queen  is  dark  in  complexion ;  among  our 
tribes  there  are  many  as  light  as  she,  and  her  hair  is  like 
the  wing  of  the  black  vulture.  How  is  that  ?  Our  chil- 
dren are  like  one  another.  Are  not  yours  the  same  ?  If 
the  queen  be  your  daughter,  then  the  golden-haired  maiden  is 
not.  You  cannot  be  the  father  of  both.  But  no  1  "  contin- 
ued the  subtle  savage,  elevating  his  voice,  "  the  queen  is  not 
your  daugher.  She  is  of  our  race — a  child  of  Montezuma — 
a  queen  of  the  Navajoes  !  " 

"  The  queen  must  be  returned  to  us  !  "  exclaimed  several 
*braves  ;  "  she  is  ours  ;  we  must  have  her  !  " 

In  vain  Seguin  reiterated  his  paternal  claim.  In  vain  he 
detailed  the  time  and  circumstances  of  her  capture  by  the 
Navajoes  themselves.     The  braves  again  cried  out — 

"  She  is  our  queen ;  we  must  have  her  !  " 

Seguin,  in  an  eloquent  speech,  appealed  to  the  feelings  of 
the  old  chief,  whose  daughter  was  in  similar  circumstances  ; 
but  it  was  evident  that  the  latter  lacked  the  power,  if  he  had 
the  will,  to  stay  the  storm  that  was  rising.  The  younger 
warriors  answered  with  shouts  of  derision,  one  of  them  cry- 
ing out  that  "  the  white  chief  was  raving." 

They  continued  for  some  time  to  gesticulate,  at  intervals 
declaring  loudly  that  on  no  terms  would  they  agree  to  an 
exchange  unless  the  queen  were  given  up.  It  was  evident 
that  some  mysterious  tie  bound  them  to  such  extreme  loyalty. 
Even  the  exchange  of  Dacoma  was  less  desired  by  them. 

Their  demands  were  urged  in  so  insulting  a  manner,  that 
we  felt  satisfied  it  was  their  intention,  in  the  end,  to  bring 
us  to  a  fight.  The  rifles,  so  much  dreaded  by  them,  were 
absent ;  and  they  felt  certain  of  obtaining  a  victory  over  us. 

The  hunters  were  equally  willing  to  be  at  it,  and  equally 
sure  of  a  conquest. 

They  only  waited  the  signal  from  their  leader. 


374  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

A  signal  was  given  ;  but,  to  their  surprise  and  chagrin,  it 
was  one  of  peace  ! 

Seguin,  turning  to  them  and  looking  down — for  he  was 
upon  his  feet — cautioned  them  in  a  low  voice  to  be  patient 
and  silent.  Then  covering  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  he  stood 
for  some  moments  in  an  attitude  of  meditation. 

The  hunters  had  full  confidence  in  the  talents  as  well  as 
bravery  of  their  chief.  They  knew  that  he  was  devising 
some  plan  of  action,  and  they  patiently  awaited  the  result. 

On  the  other  side,  the  Indians  showed  no  signs  of  impa- 
tience. They  cared  not  how  much  time  was  consumed,  for 
they  hoped  that  by  this  time  Dacoma's  party  would  be  on 
their  trail.  They  sat  still,  exchanging  their  thoughts  in 
grunts  and  short  phrases,  while  many  of  them  filled  up  the  in- 
tervals with  laughter.  They  felt  quite  easy,  and  seemed  not 
in  the  least  to  dread  the  alternative  of  a  fight  with  us.  Indeed, 
to  look  at  both  parties,  one  should  have  said  that,  man  to  man, 
we  would  have  been  no  match  for  them.  They  were  all,  with 
one  or  two  exceptions,  men  of  six  feet — most  of  them  over  it — 
in  height ;  while  many  of  the  hunters  were  small-bodied  men. 
But  among  these  there  was  not  one  "  white  feather." 

The  Navajoes  knew  that  they  themselves  were  well  armed 
for  close  conflict.  They  knew,  too,  that  we  were  armed. 
Ha  !  they  little  dreamt  how  we  were  armed.  They  saw  that 
the  hunters  carried  knives  and  pistols  ;  but  they  thought 
that,  after  the  first  volley,  uncertain  and  ill-directed,  the 
knives  would  be  no  match  for  their  terrible  tomahawks.  They 
knew  not  that  from  the  belts  of  several  of  us — El  Sol,  Se- 
guin, Garey,  and  myself — hung  a  fearful  weapon,  the  most 
fearful  of  all  others  in  close  combat :  the  Colt  revolver.  It 
was  then  but  a  new  patent,  and  no  Navajo  had  ever  heard 
its  continuous  and  death-dealing  detonations. 

"  Brothers !  "  said  Seguin,  again  placing  himself  in  an 
attitude  to  speak,  you  deny  that  I  am  the  father  of  the  girl. 


A   VEXED   TREATY.  375 

Two  of  your  captives,  whom  you  know  to  be  my  wife  and 
daughter,  are  her  mother  and  sister.  This  you  deny.  If 
you  be  sincere,  then,  you  cannot  object  to  the  proposal  I  am 
about  to  make.  Let  them  be  brought  before  us ;  let  her  be 
brought.  If  she  fail  to  recognize  and  acknowledge  her 
kindred,  then  shall  I  yield  my  claim,  and  the  maiden  be  free 
to  return  with  the  warriors  of  Navajo." 

The  hunters  heard  this  proposition  with  surprise.  They 
knew  that  Seguin's  efforts  to  awaken  any  recollection  of 
himself  in  the  mind  of  the  girl  had  been  unsuccessful. 
What  likelihood  was  there  that  she  would  remember  her 
mother?  But  Seguin  himself  had  little  hope  of  this,  and  a 
moment's  reflection  convinced  us  that  his  proposal  was  based 
upon  some  hidden  idea. 

He  saw  that  the  exchange  of  the  queen  was  a  sine  qua 
non  with  the  Indians ;  and  without  this  being  granted,  the 
negotiations  would  terminate  abruptly,  leaving  his  wife  and 
younger  daughter  still  in  the  hands  of  our  enemies.  He 
reflected  on  the  harsh  lot  which  would  await  them  in  their 
captivity,  while  she  returned  but  to  receive  homage  and  kind- 
ness. They  must  be  saved  at  every  sacrifice ;  she  must  be 
yielded  up  to  redeem  them. 

But  Seguin  had  still  another  design.  It  was  a  strategic 
maneuver,  a  desperate  and  dernier  ressort  on  his  part.  It 
was  this  : — He  saw  that,  if  we  could  once  get  the  captives, 
his  wife  and  daughter,  doAvn  among  the  houses,  there  would 
be  a  possibility,  in  the  event  of  a  fight,  of  carrying  them  off. 
The  queen  too  might  thus  be  rescued  as  well.  It  was  the 
alternative  suggested  by  despair. 

In  a  hurried  whisper  he  communicated  this  to  those  of  his 
comrades  nearest  him,  in  order  to  insure  their  prudence  and 
patience. 

As  soon  as  the  proposal  was  made,  the  Navajoes  rose 
from  their  seats,  and  clustered  together  in  a  corner  of  the 


37^  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

room  to  deliberate.  They  spoke  in  low  tones.  We  could 
not,  of  course,  understand  what  was  said ;  but  from  the  ex- 
pression of  their  faces,  and  their  gesticulations,  we  could  tell 
that  they  seemed  disposed  to  accept  it.  They  knew  that 
the  queen  had  not  recognized  Seguin  as  her  father.  They 
had  watched  her  closely  as  she  rode  down  the  opposite  side 
of  the  barranca ;  in  fact,  conversed  by  signals  with  her,  be- 
fore we  could  interfere  to  prevent  it.  No  doubt  she  had 
informed  them  of  what  happened  at  the  canon  with  Dacoma's 
warriors,  and  the  probability  of  their  approach.  They  had 
little  fear,  then,  that  she  would  remember  her  mother.  Her 
long  absence,  her  age  when  made  captive,  her  after-life,  and 
the  more  than  kind  treatment  she  had  received  at  their 
hands,  had  long  since  blotted  out  every  recollection  of  her 
childhood  and  its  associations.  The  subtle  savages  well 
knew  this ;  and  at  length,  after  a  discussion  which  lasted 
for  nearly  an  hour,  they  resumed  their  seats,  and  signified 
their  assent  to  the  proposal. 

Two  men,  one  from  each  party,  were  now  sent  for  the 
three  captives,  and  we  sat  waiting  their  arrival. 

In  a  short  time  they  were  led  in. 

I  find  a  difficulty  in  describing  the  scene  that  followed. 
The  meeting  of  Seguin  with  his  wife  and  daughter ;  my  own 
short  embrace  and  hurried  kiss ;  the  sobs  and  swooning  of 
my  betrothed ;  the  mother's  recognition  of  her  long-lost 
child ;  the  anguish  that  ensued  as  her  yearning  heart  made 
its  appeals  in  vain;  the  half-indignant,  half-pitying  looks  of 
the  hunters ;  the  triumphant  gestures  and  ejaculations  of  the 
Indians :  all  formed  points  in  a  picture  that  lives  with  pain- 
ful vividness  in  my  memory,  though  I  am  not  sufficiently 
master  of  the  author's  art  to  paint  it. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  captives  were  led  out  of  the  house, 
guarded  by  two  men,  while  the  rest  of  us  remained  to  com- 
plete the  negotiation. 


CHATER  XLVI. 


A    CONFLICT   WITH    CLOSED    DOORS. 


HE  occurrence  did  not 
improve  the  temper  of 
i;  either  party,  particularly 
*  that  of  the  hunters.  The 
Indians  were  triumphant,  but  not 
a  whit  the  less  inclined  to  obsti- 
nacy and  exaction.  They  now  re- 
turned to  their  former  offer.  For 
those  of  our  captives  that  were  woman-grown  they  would 
exchange  one  for  one,  and  for  their  chief  Dacoma  they 
offered  to  give  two ;  for  the  rest  they  insisted  on  receiving 
two  for  one. 

By  this  arrangement,  we  could  ransom  only  about  twelve 

of  the  Mexican  women  ;  but  finding  them  determined,  Seguin 

at  length  assented  to  these  terms,  provided  they  would  allow 

us  the  privilege  of  choosing  the  twelve  to  be  exchanged. 

To  our  surprise  and  indignation  this  was  refused ! 

We  no  longer  doubted  what  was  to  be  the  winding  up  of  the 

negotiation.     The  air  was  filled  with  the  electricity  of  anger. 

Hate  kindled  hate,  and  vengeance  was  burning  in  every  eye. 

The  Indians  scowled  on  us,  glancing  malignantly  out  of 

377 


378  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

their  oblique  eyes.  There  was  triumph  too  in  their  looks, 
for  they  believed  themselves  far  stronger  than  we. 

On  the  other  side  sat  the  hunters  quivering  under  a  double 
indignation.  I  say  double.  I  can  hardly  explain  what  I 
mean.  They  had  never  before  been  so  braved  by  Indians. 
They  had,  all  their  lives,  been  accustomed,  partly  out  of 
bravado  and  partly  from  actual  experience,  to  consider  the 
red  men  their  inferiors  in  subtilty  and  courage ;  and  to  be 
thus  bearded  by  them  filled  the  hunters,  as  I  have  said,  with 
a  double  indignation.  It  was  like  the  bitter  anger  which 
the  superior  feels  towards  his  resisting  inferior,  the  lord  to 
his  rebellious  serf,  the  master  to  his  lashed  slave  who  has 
turned  and  struck  him.     It  was  thus  the  hunters  felt. 

I  glanced  along  their  line.  I  never  saw  faces  with  such 
expressions  as  I  saw  there  and  then.  Their  lips  were  white, 
and  drawn  tightly  over  their  teeth ;  their  cheeks  were  set 
and  colorless;  and  their  eyes,  protruding  forward,  seemed 
glued  in  their  sockets.  There  was  no  motion  to  be  detected 
in  the  features  of  any,  save  the  twitching  of  angry  muscles. 
Their  right  hands  were  buried  in  the  bosoms  of  their  half- 
open  shirts,  each,  I  knew,  grasping  a  weapon ;  and  they 
appeared  not  to  sit,  but  to  crouch  forward,  like  panthers 
quivering  upon  the  spring. 

There  was  a  long  interval  of  silence  on  both  sides. 

It  was  broken  by  a  cry  from  without :  the  scream  of  the 
war-eagle  1 

We  should  not  have  noticed  this,  knowing  that  these  birds 
were  common  in  the  Mimbres,  and  one  might  have  flown 
over  the  ravine ;  but  we  thought,  or  fancied,  that  it  had 
made  an  impression  upon  our  adversaries.  They  were  men 
not  apt  to  show  any  sudden  emotion  ;  but  it  appeared  to  us 
that,  all  at  once,  their  glances  grew  bolder,  and  more 
triumphant.     Could  it  have  been  a  signal  ? 

We  listened  for  a  minute.     The  scream  was  repeated; 


A  CONFLICT  WITH   CLOSED   DOORS.         370 

and,  although  it  was  exactly  after  the  manner  of  a  bird  well- 
known  to  us — the  white-headed  eagle,  we  sat  with  unsatis- 
fied and  fearful  apprehensions. 

The  young  chief,  he  in  the  hussar  dress,  was  upon  his 
feet.  He  had  been  the  most  turbulent  and  exacting  of  our 
opponents.  He  was  a  man  of  most  villainous  and  licentious 
character,  so  Rube  had  told  us,  but  nevertheless  holding 
great  power  among  the  braves.  It  was  he  who  had  spoken 
in  refusal  of  Seguin's  offer,  and  he  was  now  about  to  assign 
his  reasons.     We  knew  them  without  that. 

"  Why,"  said  he,  looking  at  Seguin  as  he  spoke,  "  why  is 
it  that  the  white  chief  is  so  desirous  of  choosing  among  our 
captives  ?  Is  it  that  he  wishes  to  get  back  the  yellow-haired 
maiden  ?  " 

He  paused  a  moment,  as  if  for  a  reply ;  but  Seguin  made 
none. 

"  If  the  white  chief  believes  our  queen  to  be  his  daughter, 
would  not  he  wish  that  her  sister  should  be  her  companion, 
and  return  with  her  to  our  land  ?  " 

Again  he  paused ;  but,  as  before,  Seguin  remained  silent. 
"  The  speaker  proceeded. 

"  Why  not  let  the  yellow-haired  maiden  return  with  'tis, 
and  become  my  wife  ?  Who  am  I  that  ask  this  ?  A  chief 
of  the  Navajoes,  the  descendants  of  the  great  Montezuma ; 
the  son' of  their  kingl  " 

The  savage  looked  around  him  with  a  vaunting  air  as  he 
uttered  these  words. 

"  Who  is  she,"  he  continued,  "  that  I  am  thus  begging  for 
a  bride  ?  The  daughter  of  one  who  is  not  even  respected 
among  his  own  people  :  the  daughter  of  a  culatta  /" 

I  looked  at  Seguin.  I  saw  his  form  dilating.  I  saw  the 
big  veins  swelling  along  his  throat.  I  saw  gathering  in  his 
eyes  that  wild  expression  I  had  once  before  noticed.  I 
knew  that  the  crisis  was  near. 


380  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

Again  the  eagle  screamed ! 

"  But !  "  proceeded  the  savage,  seeming  to  draw  new  bold- 
ness from  the  signal,  "  I  shall  beg  no  more.  I  love  the 
white  maiden.  She  must  be  mine ;  and  this  very  night  shall 
she  sleep " 

He  never  finished  the  sentence.  Seguin's  bullet  had 
sped,  piercing  the  center  of  his  forehead.  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  red  round  hole,  with  its  circle  of  blue  powder, 
as  the  victim  fell  forward  on  his  face  ! 

Altogether  we  sprang  to  our  feet.  As  one  man  rose 
hunters  and  Indians.  As  if  from  one  throat  pealed  the 
double  shout  of  defiance ;  and,  as  if  by  one  hand,  knives, 
pistols,  and  tomahawks  were  drawn  together.  The  next 
moment  we  closed  and  battled  1 

Oh!  it  was  a  fearful  strife,  as  the  pistols  cracked,  the 
long  knives  glittered,  and  the  tomahawks  swept  the  air ;  a 
fearful,  fearful  strife ! 

You  would  suppose  that  the  first  shock  would  have  pros- 
trated both  ranks.  It  was  not  so.  The  early  blows  of  a 
struggle  like  this  are  wild,  and  well  parried,  and  human  life 
is  hard  to  take.     What  were  the  lives  of  men  like  these  ? 

A  few  fell.  Some  recoiled  from  the  collision,  wounded 
and  bleeding,  but  still  to  battle  again.  Some  fought  hand 
to  hand ;  while  several  pairs  had  clutched,  and  were  striving 
to  fling  each  other  in  the  desperate  wrestle  of  death ! 

Some  rushed  for  the  door,  intending  to  fight  outside.  A 
few  got  out;  but  the  crowd  pressed  against  it,  the  door 
closed,  dead  bodies  fell  behind  it ;  we  fought  in  darkness. 

We  had  light  enough  for  our  purpose.  The  pistols 
flashed  at  quick  intervals,  displaying  the  horrid  picture. 
The  light  gleamed  upon  fiend-like  faces,  upon  red  and  wav- 
ing weapons,  upon  prostrate  forms  of  men,  upon  others 
struggling  in  every  attitude  of  deadly  conflict ! 

The  yells  of  the  Indians,  and  the  not  less  savage  shouts 


A  CONFLICT   WITH    CLOSED   DOORS.         381 

of  their  white  foemen,  had  continued  from  the  first ;  but  the 
voices  grew  hoarser,  and  the  shouts  were  changed  to  groans, 
and  oaths,  and  short,  earnest  exclamations.  At  intervals 
were  heard  the  quick  percussions  of  blows,  and  the  dull, 
sodden  sound  of  falling  bodies. 

The  room  became  filled  with  smoke,  and  dust,  and  chok- 
ing sulphur  ;  and  the  combatants  were  half  stifled  as  they 
fought. 

At  the  first  break  of  the  battle  I  had  drawn  my  revolver, 
and  fired  it  in  the  faces  of  the  closing  foemen.  I  had  fired 
shot  after  shot,  some  at  random,  others  directed  upon  a  vic- 
tim. I  had  not  counted  the  reports,  until  the  cock  "  check- 
ing "  on  the  steel  nipple  told  me  I  had  gone  the  round  of 
the  six  chambers. 

This  had  occupied  but  as  many  seconds  of  time.  Me- 
chanically I  stuck  the  empty  weapon  behind  my  belt,  and, 
guided  by  an  impulse,  made  for  the  door.  Before  I  could 
reach  it,  it  was  closed,  and  I  saw  that  to  get  out  was  impos- 
sible. 

I  turned  to  search  for  an  antagonist ;  I  was  not  long  in 
finding  one.  By  the  flash  of  a  pistol  I  saw  one  of  the  In- 
dians rushing  upon  me  with  upraised  hatchet.  Up  to  this 
time  something  had  hindered  me  from  drawing  my  knife.  I 
was  now  too  late ;  and,  holding  out  my  arms  to  catch  the 
blow,  I  ducked  my  head  towards  the  savage. 

I  felt  the  keen  blade  cutting  the  flesh  as  it  glanced  along 
my  shoulder.  I  was  but  slightly  wounded.  He  had  missed 
his  aim  from  my  stooping  so  suddenly  ;  but  the  impetus 
brought  our  bodies  together,  and  the  next  moment  we  grap- 
pled. 

We  stumbled  over  a  heap  of  rock,  and  for  some  moments 
struggled  together  upon  the  ground,  neither  able  to  use  his 
weapon.  Again  we  rose,  still  locked  in  the  angry  embrace ; 
again  we  were  falling  with  terrible  force.     Something  caught 


382  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

us  in  our  descent.  It  shook ;  it  gave  way  with  a  crashing 
sound,  and  we  fell  headlong  into  the  broad  and  brilliant 
light ! 

I  was  dazzled  and  blinded.  I  heard  behind  me  a  strange 
rumbling  like  the  noise  made  by  falling  timbers  ;  but  I 
heeded  not  that :  I  was  too  busy  to  speculate  upon  causes. 

The  sudden  shock  had  separated  us,  and  both  rose  at  the 
same  instant,  again  to  grapple,  and  again  to  come  together 
to  the  earth.  We  twisted  and  wriggled  over  the  ground, 
among  weeds  and  thorny  cacti.  I  was  every  moment  grow- 
ing weaker,  while  the  sinewy  savage,  used  to  such  combats, 
seemed  to  be  gaining  fresh  nerve  and  breath.  Thrice  he 
had  thrown  me  under ;  but  each  time  I  had  clutched  his 
right  arm,  and  prevented  the  descending  blow.  I  had  suc- 
ceeded in  drawing  my  knife  as  we  fell  through  the  wall ;  but 
my  arm  was  also  held  fast,  and  I  was  unable  to  use  it. 

As  we  came  to  the  ground  for  the  fourth  time,  my  an- 
tagonist fell  under  me.  A  cry  of  agony  passed  from  his 
lips ;  his  head  "  coggled  "  over  among  the  weeds  ;  and  he 
lay  in  my  arms  without  struggling ! 

I  felt  his  grasp  gradually  relaxing.  I  looked  in  his  face. 
His  eyes  were  glassy  and  upturned.  Blood  was  gurgling 
through  his  teeth.     I  saw  that  he  was  dead. 

To  my  astonishment  I  saw  this,  for  I  knew  I  had  not 
struck  him  as  yet.  I  was  drawing  my  arm  from  under  him 
to  do  so,  when  I  noticed  that  he  ceased  to  resist.  But  the 
knife  now  caught  my  eye.  It  was  red,  blade  and  haft,  and 
so  was  the  hand  that  clasped  it. 

As  we  fell,  I  had  accidentally  held  it  point  upward.  My 
antagonist  had  fallen  upon  the  blade  ! 

I  now  thought  of  my  betrothed,  and,  untwining  myself 
from  the  lithe  and  nerveless  limbs  of  the  savage,  I  rose  to 
my  feet.     The  ranche  was  in  flames ! 

The  roof  had  fallen   in   upon  the  brazero,   and  the  dry 


A   CONFLICT   WITH    CLOSED    DOORS.         383 

shingles  had  caught  the  blaze.  Men  were  crawling  out  from 
the  burning  ruin,  but  not  to  run  away.  No  !  Under  its 
lurking  flames,  amidst  the  hot  smoke,  they  still  battled : 
fierce,  and  foaming,  and  frenzied  ! 

I  did  not  stay  to  recognize  whom  they  were,  these  tireless 
combatants.  I  ran  forward,  looking  on  all  sides  for  the  ob- 
jects of  my  solicitude.  The  wave  of  female  dresses  caught 
my  eye,  far  up  the  cliff,  on  the  road  leading  to  the  Navajo 
captives.  It  was  they  !  The  three  were  climbing  the  steep 
path,  each  urged  onward  by  a  savage. 

My  first  impulse  was  to  rush  after  ;  but  at  that  moment 
fifty  horsemen  made  their  appearance  upon  the  hill,  and  came 
galloping  downward. 

I  saw  the  madness  of  attempting  to  follow  them,  and 
turned  to  retreat  towards  the  other  side,  where  we  had  left 
our  captives  and  horses.  As  I  ran  across  the  bottom,  shots 
rang  in  my  ear,  proceeding  from  our  side  of  the  barranca. 
Looking  up,  I  descried  the  mounted  hunters  coming  down 
at  a  gallop,  pursued  by  a  cloud  of  savage  horsemen.  It  was 
the  band  of  Dacoma  ! 

Uncertain  what  to  do,  I  stood  for  a  moment  where  I  was, 
and  watched  the  pursuit. 

The  hunters,  on  reaching  the  ranches,  did  not  halt,  but  gal- 
loped on  down  the  valley,  firing  as  they  went.  A  body  of 
Indians  swept  on  after  them,  while  another  body  pulled  up, 
clustered  around  the  blazing  ruin,  and  commenced  search- 
ing among  the  walls. 

I  was  yet  screened  in  the  thicket  of  cacti ;  but  I  saw  that 
my  hiding-place  would  soon  be  pierced  by  the  eyes  of  the 
subtle  savages  ;  and  dropping  upon  my  hands  and  knees,  I 
crept  into  the  cliff.  On  reaching  it,  I  found  myself  close  to 
the  mouth  of  a  cave,  a  small  shaft  of  the  mine,  and  into  this 
I  at  once  betook  myself. 


CHAPTER  XL VII. 


A    QUEER    ENCOUNTER    IN   A    CAVE. 


| HE  place  into  which  I  had 
crawled  was  of  irregular  out- 
lines. Rocks  jutted  along  the 
sides,  and  between  these,  small 
lateral  shafts  had  been  dug,  where  the 
miners  had  followed  the  ramifications  of 
the  "  quixa."  The  cave  was  not  a  deep' 
one;  the  vein  had  not  proved  profitable,  and  had  been 
abandoned  for  some  other. 

I  kept  up  it  till  I  was  fairly  "  in  the  dark "  ;  and  then 
groping  against  one  side,  I  found  a  recess,  in  which  I  en- 
sconced myself.  By  peeping  round  the  rock,  I  could  see 
out  of  the  cave,  and  some  distance  over  the  bottom  of  the 
barranca,  where  the  bushes  grew  thin  and  straggling. 

I  had  hardly  seated  myself  when  my  attention  was  called  to 
a  scene  that  was  passing  outside.     Two  men  on  their  hands 
384 


A   QUEER   ENCOUNTER   IN    A   CAVE.  385 

and  knees  were  crawling  through  the  cactus  plants  in  front  of 
the  cave.  Beyond  them  half  a  dozen  savages  on  horseback 
were  beating  the  thicket,  but  had  not  yet  seen  the  men.  These 
I  recognized  easily.  They  were  Gode  and  the  doctor.  The 
latter  was  nearer  me ;  and  as  he  scrambled  on  over  the  shin- 
gle, something  started  out  of  the  rocks  within  reach  of  his 
hand.  I  noticed  that  it  was  a  small  animal  of  the  armadillo 
kind.  I  saw  him  stretch  forward,  clutch  it,  and  with  a 
pleased  look  deposit  it  in  a  bag  that  was  by  his  side.  All 
this  time  the  Indians  were  whooping  and  yelling  behind  him, 
and  not  fifty  yards  distant. 

Doubtless  the  animal  was  of  some  new  species,  but  the 
zealous  naturalist  never  gave  it  to  the  world.  He  had 
scarcely  drawn  forth  his  hand  again  when  a  cry  from  the 
savages  announced  that  he  and  Gode  were  discovered  ;  and 
the  next  moment  both  lay  upon  the  ground  pierced  with 
lances  and  to  all  appearance  dead ! 

Their  pursuers  now  dismounted  with  the  intention  of 
scalping  them.  Poor  Reicher  !  his  cap  was  pulled  off  ;  the 
bleeding  trophy  followed,  and  he  lay  with  the  red  skull  to- 
wards the  cave — a  hideous  spectacle  ! 

Another  Indian  had  alighted,  and  stood  over  the  Canadian 
with  his  long  knife  in  his  hand.  Although  pitying  my  poor 
follower,  and  altogether  in  no  humor  for  mirth,  knowing 
what  I  did,  I  could  not  help  watching  the  proceedings  with 
some  curiosity. 

The  savage  stood  for  a  moment,  admiring  the  beautiful 
curls  that  embellished  the  head  of  his  victim.  He  was  no 
doubt  thinking  what  handsome  fringes  they  would  make  for 
his  leggings.  He  appeared  to  be  in  ecstasies  of  delight ;  and 
from  the  flourishes  which  he  made  with  his  knife,  I  could  see 
that  it  was  his  intention  to  ski?i  the  whole  head  ! 

After  cutting  several  capers  around  it,  he  stooped  and 
grasped  a  fistful  of  curls ;  but  before  he  had  touched  ftie 
25 


386  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

scalp  with  his  blade,  the  hair  lifted  off,  displaying  the  white 
and  marble-like  skull ! 

With  a  cry  of  terror,  the  savage  dropped  the  wig,  and, 
running  backward,  fell  over  the  body  of  the  doctor.  The 
cry  attracted  his  comrades  ;  and  several  of  them,  dismount- 
ing, approached  the  strange  object  with  looks  of  astonish- 
ment. One,  more  courageous  than  the  rest,  picked  up  the 
wig,  which  they  all  proceeded  to  examine  with  curious 
minuteness. 

Then  one  after  another  went  up  to  the  shining  skull,  and 
passed  his  fingers  over  its  smooth  surface,  all  the  while 
uttering  exclamations  of  surprise.  They  tried  on  the  wig, 
took  it  off,  and  put  it  on  again,  turning  it  in  various  ways. 
At  length,  he  who  claimed  it  as  his  property  pulled  off  his 
plumed  head-dress,  and,  adjusting  the  wig  upon  his  own 
head,  front  backward,  stalked  proudly  around,  with  the  long 
curls  dangling  over  his  face  ! 

It  was  altogether  a  curious  scene,  and,  under  other  cir- 
cumstances, might  have  amused  me.  There  was  something  ir- 
resistibly comic  in  the  puzzled  looks  of  the  actors  ;  but  I  had 
been  too  deeply  affected  by  the  tragedy  to  laugh  at  the  farce. 
There  was  too  much  of  horror  around  me.  Seguin  perhaps 
dead ;  she  gone  forever,  the  slave  of  the  brutal  savage. 
My  own  peril,  too,  at  the  moment ;  for  I  knew  not  how  soon 
I  might  be  discovered  and  dragged  forth.  This  affected  me 
least  of  all.  My  life  was  now  of  little  value  to  me,  and  so  I 
regarded  it. 

But  there  is  an  instinct,  so  called,  of  self-preservation,  even 
when  the  will  ceases  to  act.  Hopes  soon  began  to  shape 
themselves  in  my  mind,  and  along  with  these  the  wish  to 
live.  Thoughts  came.  I  might  organize  a  powerful  band ; 
I  might  yet  rescue  her.  Yes  !  even  though  years  might 
intervene,  I  would  accomplish  this.  She  would  still  be  true  1 
She  would  never  forget  / 


A  QUEER   ENCOUNTER   IN   A   CAVE.  387 

Poor  Seguin !  what  a  life  of  hope  withered  in  an  hour  ! 
he  himself  sealing  the  sacrifice  with  his  blood  ! 

But  I  would  not  despair,  even  with  his  fate  for  a  warning. 
I  would  take  up  the  drama  where  he  had  ended.  The  curtain 
should  rise  upon  new  scenes,  and  I  would  not  abandon  the 
stage  until  I  had  accomplished  a  more  joyous  finale  ;  or, 
failing  this,  had  reached  the  denouement  of  death  or  venge- 
ance. 

Poor  Seguin  !  No  wonder  he  had  been  a  scalp-hunter. 
I  could  now  understand  how  holy  was  his  hate  for  the  ruth- 
less red  man.     I,  too,  had  imbibed  the  passion. 

With  such  reflections  passing  hastily — for  the  scene  I  have 
described,  and  the  sequent  thoughts,  did  not  occupy  much 
time — I  turned  my  eyes  inwards  to  examine  whether  I  was 
sufficiently  concealed  in  my  niche.  They  might  take  it  into 
their  heads  to  search  the  shaft. 

As  I  endeavored  to  penetrate  the  gloom  that  extended  in- 
wards, my  gaze  became  riveted  on  an  object  that  caused  me 
to  shrink  back  with  a  cold  shudder.  Notwithstanding  the 
scenes  I  had  just  passed  through,  this  was  the  cause  of  still 
another  agony. 

In  the  thick  of  the  darkness  I  could  distinguish  two  small 
spots,  round  and  shining.  They  did  not  scintillate,  but 
rather  glistened  with  a  steady  greenish  luster.  I  knew  that 
they  were  eyes  ! 

I  was  in  the  cave  with  a  panther,  or  with  a  still  more 
terrible  companion,  the  grizzly  bear  1 

My  first  impulse  was  to  press  back  into  the  recess  where 
I  had  hidden  myself.  This  I  did,  until  my  back  leaned 
against  the  rocks.  I  had  no  thoughts  of  attempting  to  escape 
out.  That  would  have  been  from  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire, 
for  the  Indians  were  still  in  front  of  the  cave.  Moreover, 
any  attempt  to  retreat  would  only  draw  on  the  animal,  per- 
haps at  that  moment  straining  to  spring. 


388  THE  SCALP-HUNTERS. 

I  cowered  closely,  groping  along  my  belt  for  the  handle  of 
my  knife.  I  clasped  this  at  length,  and  drawing  it  forth, 
waited  in  a  crouching  attitude. 

During  all  this  time  my  eyes  had  remained  fixed  on  the 
lustrous  orbs  before  me. 

I  saw  that  they  were  fixed  upon  mine,  and  watched  me 
without  as  much  as  winking. 

Mine  seemed  to  be  possessed  of  abstract  volition.  I  could 
not  take  them  off.  They  were  held  by  some  terrible  fascina- 
tion ;  and  I  felt,  or  fancied,  that  the  moment  this  should  be 
broken,  the  animal  would  spring  upon  me. 

I  had  heard  of  fierce  brutes  being  conquered  by  the  glance 
of  the  human  eye,  and  I  endeavored  to  look  back  my  vis-it 
vis  with  interest. 

We  sat  for  some  time,  neither  of  us  moving  an  inch.  I 
could  see  nothing  of  the  animal's  body ;  nothing  but  the 
green  gleaming  circles  that  seemed  set  in  a  ground  of 
ebony. 

As  they  had  remained  motionless  so  long,  I  conjectured 
that  the  owner  of  them  was  still  lying  in  his  lair,  and  would 
not  make  his  attack  until  something  disturbed  him  ;  perhaps 
until  the  Indians  had  gone  away. 

The  thought  now  occurred  to  me  that  I  might  better  arm 
myself.  I  knew  that  a  knife  would  be  of  little  avail  against 
a  grizzly  bear.  My  pistol  was  still  in  my  belt,  but  it  was 
empty.  Would  the  animal  permit  me  to  load  it  ?  I  resolved 
to  make  the  attempt. 

Still  leaving  my  eyes  to  fulfil  their  office,  I  felt  for  my 
flask  and  pistol,  and  finding  both  ready,  I  commenced  load- 
ing. I  proceeded  with  silence  and  caution,  for  I  knew  that 
these  animals  could  see  in  the  dark,  and  that  in  this  respect 
my  vis-a-vis  had  the  advantage  of  me.  I  felt  the  powder  in 
with  my  finger,  and  pushing  the  ball  on  top  of  it,  rolled  the 
cylinder  to  the  right  notch,  and  cocked. 


A  QUEER   ENCOUNTER   IN   A   CAVE.         389 

As  the  spring  "  clicked,"  I  saw  the  eyes  start.  "  It  will 
be  on  me  now  !  " 

Quick  as  the  thought,  I  placed  my  finger  to  the  trigger ; 
but  before  I  could  level,  a  voice,  with  a  well-known  accent, 
restrained  me. 

"  Hold  on  thur,  d — n  yur  !  "  cried  the  voice.  "  Why  the 
d — t — n  didn't  'ee  say  yur  hide  wur  white  ?  I  thought  'twur 
some  sneaking  Injun.  Who  the  h — 1  are  'ee,  anyhow  ? 
'Tain't  Bill  Garey  ?     No,  Billee,  'tain't  you,  ole  fellur." 

"  No,"  said  I,  recovering  from  my  surprise  ;  "  it's  not 
Bill." 

"  I  mout  'a  guessed  that.  Bill  wud  a  know'd  me  sooner. 
He  wud  a  know'd  the  glint  o'  this  niggur's  eyes  as  I  wud 
his'n.  Ah  !  poor  Billee  !  I's  afeerd  that  trapper's  rubbed 
out ;  an'  thur  ain't  many  more  o'  his  sort  in  the  mountains. 
No,  that  thur  ain't. 

"  Rot  it !  "  continued  the  voice,  with  a  fierce  emphasis  ; 
"  this  comes  o'  layin'  one's  rifle  ahint  them.  Ef  I'd  'a  had 
Targuts  wi'  me,  I  wudn't  a  been  hidin'  hyur  like  a  scared 
'possum.  But  she  are  gone  ;  that  leetle  gun  are  gone  ;  an' 
the  mar  too  ;  an'  hyur  I  am  'ithout  eyther  beast  or  weepun  ; 
cuss  the  luck !  " 

And  the  last  words  were  uttered  with  an  angry  hiss,  that 
echoed  through  every  part  of  the  cave. 

"  Yur  the  young  fellow  ;  the  capt'n's  friend,  ain't  'ee  ?  " 
inquired  the  speaker,  with  a  sudden  change  of  tone. 

"  Yes,"  I  replied. 

"  I  didn't  see  yur  a-comin'  in,  or  I  mout  'a  spoke  sooner. 
I've  got  a  smart  lick  across  the  arm,  an'  I  wur  just  a-tyin'  it 
up  as  ye  tumbled  in  thur.  Who  did  'ee  think  this  child 
wur  ? " 

"  I  did  not  think  you  were  any  one.  I  took  you  for  a 
grizzly  bear." 

"  Ha !  ha  1  ha  1     He  1  he  1  he  1     I  thort  so,  when  I  heard 


390  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

the  click  o'  your  pistol.  He  !  he  !  he  !  If  ever  I  sets  my 
peepers  on  Bill  Garey  agin,  I'll  make  that  niggur  larf  till  his 

guts  ache.     Ole  Rube  tuk  for  a  grizzly  !     If  that  ain't 

Ha!  ha!  ha!     He!  he!  he!     Ho!  ho!  hoo  !  " 

And  the  old  trapper  chuckled  at  the  conceit,  as  if  he  had 
just  been  witnessing  some  scene  of  amusement,  and  there 
was  not  an  enemy  within  a  hundred  miles  of  him. 

"  Did  you  see  anything  of  Seguin  ?  "  I  asked,  wishing  to 
learn  whether  there  was  any  probability  that  my  friend  still 
lived. 

"  Did  I  ?  I  did  ;  an'  a  sight  that  wur.  Did  'ee  iver  see 
a  catamount  riz  ?  " 

"  I  believe  I  have,"  said  I. 

"  Wal,  that  wur  him.  He  wur  in  the  shanty  when  it  felled. 
So  wur  I  m'self ;  but  I  wa'n't  there  long  arter.  I  creeped 
out  some'rs  about  the  door ;  an'  jest  then  I  seed  the  cap, 
hand  to  hand  wi'  an  Injun  in  a  stan'-up  tussle :  but  it  didn't 
last  long.  The  cap  gi'n  him  a  sockdolloger  some'rs  about 
the  ribs,  an'  the  nigger  went  under  ;  he  did." 

"  But  what  of  Seguin  ?     Did  you  see  him  afterwards  ?  " 

"Did  I  see  him  arterwards  ?     No;  I  didn't." 

"I  fear  he  is  killed." 

"  That  ain't  likely,  young  fellur.  He  knows  these  diggins 
better'n  any  o'  us  ;  an'  he  oughter  know  whur  to  cacher,  I 
reckin.     He's  did  that,  I'll  be  boun'." 

"  Ay,  if  he  would,"  said  I,  thinking  that  Seguin  might 
have  followed  the  captives,  and  thrown  away  his  life  reck- 
lessly. 

"  Don't  be  skeert  about  him,  young  fellur.  The  cap  ain't 
a-gwine  to  put  his  fingers  into  a  bee's  nest  whur  thur's  no 
honey  ;  he  ain't." 

"  But  where  could  he  have  gone,  when  you  did  not  see 
him  afterwards  ? " 

"  Whur  could  he  'a  gone  ?     Fifty  ways  he  kud  'a  gone 


A  QUEER   ENCOUNTER   IN   A   CAVE.         391 

through  the  brush.  I  didn't  think  o'  looking  arter  him. 
He  left  the  Injun  whur  he  had  throw'd  him,  'ithout  raisin' 
the  har ;  so  I  stooped  down  to  git  it ;  an'  when  I  riz  agin, 
he  wa'n't  thur  no  how.  But  that  Injun  wur.  Lor' !  that 
Injun  are  some  punkins  ;  he  are." 

"  What  Indian  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Him  as  jined  us  on  the  Del  Nort ;  the  Coco." 

"  El  Sol  I  what  of  him  ?  is  he  killed  ?  " 

"  Wal,  he  ain't,  I  reckin  ;  nor  can't  a  be  :  that's  this  child's 
opeenyun  o'  it.  He  kim  from  under  the  ranche,  arter  it 
tumbled  ;  an'  his  fine  dress  looked  as  spick  as  ef  it  had  been 
jest  tuk  out  o'  a  bandy-box.  Thur  wur  two  at  him,  an',  Lor  I 
how  he  fit  them  1  I  tackled  on  to  one  o'  them  ahint,  an' 
gin  him  a  settler  in  the  hump  ribs  ;  but  the  way  he  finished 
the  other  wur  a  caution  to  Crockett.  'Twur  the  puttiest  lick 
I  ever  seed  in  these  hyur  mountains,  an'  I've  seed  a  good 
few,  I  reckin." 

"  How  was  it  ?  " 

"  'Ee  know,  the  Injun — that  are,  the  Coco — fit  wi'  a 
hatchet  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Wal,  then  ;  that  ur's  a  desprit  weepun,  for  them  as  knows 
how  to  use  it ;  an'  he  diz ;  that  Injun  diz.  T'other  had  a 
hatchet,  too,  but  he  didn't  keep  it  long.  'Twur  clinked  out 
o'  his  hands  in  a  minnit,  an'  then  the  Coco  got  a  down  blow 
at  him.  Wagh !  it  wur  a  down  blow,  an'  it  wa'n't  nuthin' 
else.  It  split  the  niggur's  head  clur  down  to  the  thrapple. 
'Twus  sep'rated  into  two  halves  as  ef  't  had  been  clove  wi'  a 
broad-ax !  Ef  'ee  had  'a  seed  the  varmint  when  he  kim  to 
the  ground,  'ee'd  'a  thort  he  wur  double-headed.  Jest  then 
I  spied  the  Injuns  a-comin'  down  both  sides  o'  the  bluff ; 
an'  havin'  neyther  beast  nor  weepun,  exceptin'  a  knife,  this 
child  tuk  a  notion  'twa'n't  safe  to  be  thur  any  longer,  an' 
cachid;  he  did." 


Apaches  Lassoing  Wild  Horses. 


CHAPTER  XLVIIL 


SMOKED    OUT. 


UR    conversation 

had  been  carried 

on  in  a  low  tone, 

for   the    Indians 

(Still  remained  in  front  of 

the  cave.     Many  others 

had    arrived,    and   were 

examining   the    skull  of 

the   Canadian   with   the 

same  looks  of    curiosity 

and  wonderment  that  had 

been  exhibited  by  their 

comrades. 

Rube  and  I  sat  for  some  time  in  silence,  watching  them. 
The  trapper  had  flitted  near  me,  so  that  he  could  see  out 
and  talk  in  whispers. 

I  was  still  apprehensive  that  the  savages  might  search  the 
cave. 

"  'Tain't  likely,"  said  my  companion.     "  They  mout  ef 
thur  hadn't  a  been  so  many  o'  these  diggins,  do  'ee  see  ? 
Thur's  a  grist  o'  em — more'n  a  hundred — on  t'other  side ; 
392 


SMOKED   OUT.  393 

an'  most  o'  the  men  who  got  clur  tuk  furrer  down.  It's  my 
notion  the  Injuns  seed  that,  an'  won't  disturb — Gee — wiliker  / 
ef  thur  ain't  that  cussed  dog  !  " 

I  well  understood  the  meaning  of  the  fearful  emphasis 
with  which  these  last  words  were  repeated.  My  eyes,  sim- 
ultaneously with  those  of  the  speaker,  had  fallen  upon  the 
dog  Alp.  He  was  running  about  in  front  of  the  cave.  I 
saw  at  a  glance  he  was  searching  for  me. 

The  next  moment  he  had  struck  the  trail  where  I  had 
crawled  through  the  cacti,  and  came  running  down  in  the 
direction  of  the  cave. 

On  reaching  the  body  of  the  Canadian,  which  lay  directly 
in  his  track,  he  stopped  for  a  moment  and  appeared  to  ex- 
amine it.  Then,  uttering  a  short  yelp,  he  passed  on  to  that 
of  the  doctor,  where  he  made  a  similar  demonstration.  He 
ran  several  times  from  one  to  the  other,  but  at  length  left 
them :  and,  with  his  nose  once  more  to  the  ground,  disap- 
peared out  of  our  view. 

His  strange  actions  had  attracted  the  attention  of  the  sav- 
ages, who,  one  and  all,  stood  watching  him. 

My  companion  and  I  were  beginning  to  hope  that  he  had 
lost  me,  when,  to  our  dismay,  he  appeared  a  second  time, 
coming  down  the  trail  as  before.  This  time  he  leaped  over  the 
bodies,  and  the  next  moment  sprang  into  the  mouth  of  the 
cave. 

A  yell  from  without  told  us  that  we  were  lost. 

We  endeavored  to  drive  the  dog  out  again,  and  succeeded, 
Rube  having  wounded  him  with  his  knife  ;  but  the  wound 
itself,  and  the  behavior  of  the  animal  outside,  convinced  our 
enemies  that  some  one  was  within  the  shaft. 

In  a  few  seconds  the  entrance  was  darkened  by  a  crowd 
of  savages,  shouting  and  yelling. 

"  Now  show  yur  shootin',  young  fellur  !  "  said  my  com- 
panion. "  It's  the  new  kind  o'  pistol  'ee  hev  got.  Load 
every  ber'l  o'  it" 


394  ?rHE  scalP-hUnters. 

"  Shall  I  have  time  to  load  them  ?  " 

"  Plenty  o'  time.  They  ain't  a-gwine  to  come  in  'ithout 
a  light.  Thur  gone  for  a  torch  to  the  shanty.  Quick  \vi' 
yur !     Slap  in  the  fodder  !  " 

Without  waiting  to  reply,  I  caught  hold  of  my  flask,  and 
loaded  the  remaining  five  chambers  of  the  revolver.  I  had 
scarcely  finished  when  one  of  the  Indians  appeared  in  front 
with  a  flaming  brand,  and  was  about  stooping  into  the 
mouth  of  the  cavern. 

"  Now's  yur  time,"  cried  Rube.  "  Fetch  the  durned  nig- 
gur  out  o'  his  boots !     Fetch  him  !  " 

I  fired,  and  the  savage,  dropping  the  torch,  fell  dead  upon 
the  top  of  it ! 

An  angry  yell  from  without  followed  the  report,  and  the 
Indians  disappeared  from  the  front.  Shortly  after,  an  arm 
was  seen  reaching  in,  and  the  dead  body  was  drawn  back 
out  of  the  entrance. 

"  What  will  they  do  next,  think  you  ? "  I  inquired  of  my 
companion. 

"  I  can't  tell  adzactly  yit ;  but  thur  sick  o'  that  game,  I 
reckin.  Load  that  ber'l  agin.  I  guess  we'll  git  a  lot  o'  'm 
afore  we  gins  in.  Cuss  the  luck  1  that  gun,  Targuts  1  Ef  I 
only  had  that  leetle  piece  hyur !  'Ee've  got  six  shots,  have 
'ee  ?  Good  I  'Ee  mout  chock  up  the  cave  wi'  their  kar- 
kidges  afore  they  kin  reach  us.  It  ur  a  great  weepun,  an' 
no, mistakes.  I  seed  the  cap  use  it.  Lor'!  how  he  made 
it  tell  on  them  niggurs  i'  the  shanty  1  Thur  ain't  many  o' 
the?n  about,  I  reckin.  Load  'sure,  young  fellur  1  Thur's 
plenty  o'  time.     They  knows  what  you've  got  thur." 

During  all  this  dialogue  none  of  the  Indians  made  their 
appearance,  but  we  could  hear  them  on  both  sides  of  the 
shaft,  without.  We  knew  they  were  deliberating  on  what 
plan  they  would  take  to  get  at  us. 

As  Rube  suggested,  they  seemed  to  be  aware  that  the  shot 
had  come  from  a  revolver.     Doubtless  some  of  the  survivors 


SMOKED    OUT.  395 

of  the  late  fight  had  informed  them  of  the  fearful  havoc  that 
had  been  made  among  them  with  our  pistols,  and  they 
dreaded  to  face  them.  What  other  plan  would  they  adopt  ? 
Starve  us  out  ? 

"  They  mout,"  said  Rube,  in  answer  to  my  question,  "  an' 
kin  if  they  try.  Thur  ain't  a  big  show  o'  vittlin'  hyur,' 
'ceptin'  we  chaw  donnicks.  But  thur's  another  way,  ef  they 
only  hev  the  gumshin  to  go  about  it,  that'll  git  us  sooner  than 
starvin'.  Ha  !  "  ejaculated  the  speaker,  with  emphasis.  "I 
thort  so.     Thur  a-gwine  to  smoke  us.     Look  'ee  yandee !  " 

I  looked  forth.  At  a  distance  I  saw  several  Indians 
coming  in  the  direction  of  the  cave,  carrying  large  bundles 
of  brushwood.     Their  intention  was  evident. 

"  But  can  they  do  this  ?  "  I  inquired,  doubting  the  pos- 
sibility of  our  enemies  being  able  to  effect  their  purpose  in 
that  way ;  "  can  we  not  bear  the  smoke  ?  " 

"  Bar  it !  Yur  green,  young  fellur.  Do  'ee  know  what 
sort  o'  brush  thur  a-toatin'  yander  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  I  ;  "  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  It  ur  the  stink-plant,  then  ;  an'  the  stinkinest  plant  'ee 
ever  smelt,  I  reckin.  The  smoke  o'  it  ud  choke  a  skunk  out 
o'  a  persimmon  log.  I  tell  'ee  young  'un,  we'll  eyther  be 
smoked  out  or  smothered  whur  we  are  ;  an'  this  child  hain't 
fit  Injun  for  thirty  yeern  or  better,  to  go  under  that  a-way. 
When  it  gets  to  its  wurst  Fm  a-gwine  to  make  a  rush.  That's 
what  I'm  a-gwine  ter  do,  young  fellur." 

"But  how?"  I  asked  hurriedly;  "how  shall  we  act 
then  ?  " 

"  How  ?     Yur  game  to  the  toes,  ain't  'ee  ?  " 

"  I  am  willing  to  fight  to  the  last." 

"  Wal,  then,  hyur's  how,  an'  the  only  how  : — When  they've 
raised  the  smoke  so  that  they  can't  see  us  a-comin',  we'll 
streak  it  out  among  'em.  You  hev  the  pistol,  an'  kin  go 
fo'most.     Shoot  every  cussed  niggur  that  clutches   at   ye, 


396  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

an'  run  like  blazes  !  I'll  foller  clost  on  yur  heels.  If  we 
kin  oncest  git  through  the  thick  o'  'em,  we  mout  make  the 
brush,  an'  creep  under  it  to  the  big  caves  on  t'other  side. 
Them  caves  jines  one  another,  an'  we  mout  dodge  them 
thur.  I  seed  the  time  this  'coon  kud  'a  run  a  bit,  but  these 
hyur  jeints  ain't  as  soople  as  they  wur  oncest.  We  kin  try 
neverthemless ;  an'  mind,  young  fellur,  it's  our  only  chance  : 
do  'ee  hear  ?  " 

I  promised  to  follow  the  directions  that  my  never-despair- 
ing companion  had  given  me. 

"  They  won't  get  ole  Rube's  scalp  yit,  they  won't.  He  ! 
he !  he  !  " 

I  turned  towards  him.  The  man  was  actually  laughing 
at  this  wild  and  strangely  timed  jest.  It  was  awful  to  hear 
him. 

Several  armfuls  of  brush  were  now  thrown  into  the  mouth 
of  the  cave.  I  saw  that  it  was  the  creosote  plant :  the  ideo- 
dondo. 

It  was  thrown  upon  the  still  blazing  torch,  and  soon 
caught,  sending  up  a  thick  black  smoke.  More  was  piled 
on  ;  and  the  fetid  vapor,  impelled  by  some  influence  from 
without,  began  to  reach  our  nostrils  and  lungs,  causing  an 
almost  instantaneous  feeling  of  sickness  and  suffocation.  I 
could  not  have  borne  it  long.  I  did  not  stay  to  try  how  long, 
for  at  that  moment  I  heard  Rube  crying  out — 

"  Now's  your  time,  young  fellur !  Out,  and  gi'  them 
hades  ! " 

With  a  feeling  of  desperate  resolve,  I  clutched  my  pistol 
and  dashed  through  the  smoking  brushwood.  I  heard  a 
wild  and  deafening  shout.  I  saw  a  crowd  of  men — of  fiends. 
I  saw  spears,  and  tomahawks,  and  red  knives  raised,  and 


Types  of  Indian  Maidens. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 


A    NOVEL    MODE    OF    EQUITATION. 


HEN  consciousness  returned,  I  found 
that  I  was  lying  on  the  ground,  and 
my  dog,  the  innocent  cause  of  my 
captivity,  was  licking  my  face.  I 
could  not  have  been  long  senseless, 
for  the  savages  were  still  gesticulating 
violently  around  me.  One  was  wav- 
ing them  back.  I  recognized  him.  It 
was  Dacoma  ! 

The  chief  uttered  a  short  harangue  that  seemed  to  quiet 
the  warriors.  I  could  not  tell  what  he  said,  but  I  heard  him 
use  frequently  the  word  Quetzalcoatl.  I  knew  that  this  was 
the  name  of  their  god,  but  I  did  not  understand,  at  the  time, 
what  the  saving  of  my  life  could  have  to  do  with  him. 

I  thought  that  Dacoma  was  protecting  me  from  some  feel- 
ing of  pity  or  gratitude,  and  I  endeavored  to  recollect  whether 
I  had  shown  him  any  special  act  of  kindness  during  his  cap- 
tivity. I  had  sadly  mistaken  the  motives  of  that  splendid 
savage. 

My  head  felt  sore.     Had  they  scalped  me  ?     With  the 

397 


39§  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

thought  I  raised  my  hand,  passing  it  over  my  crown.  No. 
My  favorite  brown  curls  were  still  there ;  but  there  was  a 
deep  cut  along  the  back  of  my  head — the  dent  of  a  toma- 
hawk. I  had  been  struck  from  behind  as  I  came  out,  and 
before  I  could  fire  a  single  bullet. 

Where  was  Rube  ?  I  raised  myself  a  little  and  looked 
around.     He  was  not  to  be  seen  anywhere. 

Had  he  escaped,  as  he  intended  ?  No  ;  it  would  have 
been  impossible  for  any  man,  with  only  a  knife,  to  have 
fought  his  way  through  so  many.  Moreover,  I  did  not  ob- 
serve any  commotion  among  the  savages,  as  if  an  enemy 
had  escaped  them.     None  seemed  to  have  gone  off  from  the 

spot.     What  then  had ?     Ha  !     I  now  understood,  in 

its  proper  sense,  Rube's  jest  about  his  scalp.  It  was  not  a 
double  entendre,  but  a  mot  of  triple  ambiguity. 

The  trapper,  instead  of  following  me,  had  remained 
quietly  in  his  den,  where,  no  doubt,  he  was  at  that  moment 
watching  me,  his  scape-goat,  and  chuckling  at  his  own 
escape. 

The  Indians,  never  dreaming  that  there  were  two  of  us  in 
the  cave,  and  satisfied  that  it  was  now  empty,  made  no 
farther  attempts  to  "  smoke  "  it. 

I  was  not  likely  to  undeceive  them.  I  knew  that  Rube's 
death  or  capture  could  not  have  benefited  me  ;  but  I  could 
not  help  reflecting  on  the  strange  stratagem  by  which  the  old 
fox  had  saved  himself. 

I  was  not  allowed  much  time  for  reflection.  Two  of  the 
savages,  seizing  me  by  the  arms,  dragged  me  up  to  the  still 
blazing  ruin.  Oh,  heavens  !  was  it  for  this  Dacoma  had 
saved  me  from  their  tomahawks  ?  for  this,  the  most  cruel  of 
deaths  ! 

They  proceeded  to  tie  me  hand  and  foot.  Several  others 
were  around,  submitting  to  the  same  treatment.  I  recog- 
nized Sanchez  the  bull-fighter  and  the  red-haired  Irishman. 


A    NOVEL    MODE    OF    EQUITATION.  39<) 

There  were  three  others  of  the  band,  whose  names  I  had 
never  learnt. 

We  were  in  an  open  space  in  front  of  the  burning  ranche. 
We  could  see  all  that  was  going  on. 

The  Indians  were  clearing  it  of  the  fallen  and  charred 
timbers,  to  get  at  the  bodies  of  their  friends.  I  watched 
their  proceedings  with  less  interest,  as  I  now  knew  that 
Seguin  was  not  there. 

It  was  a  horrid  spectacle  when  the  rubbish  was  cleared 
away,  laying  bare  the  floor  of  the  ruin.  More  than  a  dozen 
bodies  lay  upon  it,  half  baked,  half  roasted  1  Their  dresses 
were  burned  off ;  but  by  the  parts  that  remained  still  intact 
from  the  fire,  we  could  easily  recognize  to  what  party  each 
had  belonged.  The  greater  number  of  them  were  Navajoes. 
There  were  also  the  bodies  of  hunters  smoking  inside  their 
cindery  shirts.  I  thought  of  Garey ;  but,  as  far  as  I  could 
judge,  he  was  not  among  them. 

There  were  no  scalps  for  the  Indians  to  take.  The  fire 
had  been  before  them,  and  had  not  left  a  hair  upon  the  heads 
of  their  dead  foemen. 

Seemingly  mortified  at  this,  they  lifted  the  bodies  of  the 
hunters,  and  tossed  them  once  more  into  the  flames  that 
were  still  blazing  up  from  the  piled  rafters.  They  gathered 
the  knives,  pistols,  and  tomahawks  that  lay  among  the  ashes  ; 
and  carrying  what  remained  of  their  own  people  out  of  the 
ruin,  placed  them  in  front.  They  then  stood  around  them 
in  a  circle,  and  with  loud  voices  chanted  a  chorus  of  venge- 
ance. 

During  all  this  proceeding  we  lay  where  we  had  been  thrown, 
guarded  by  a  dozen  savages.  We  were  filled  with  fearful 
apprehensions.  We  saw  the  fire  still  blazing,  and  we  saw 
that  the  half-burnt  bodies  of  our  late  comrades  had  been 
thrown  upon  it.     We  dreaded  a  similar  fate  for  our  own. 

But  we  soon  found  that  we  were  reserved  for  some  other 


400  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

purpose.  Six  mules  were  brought  up,  and  upon  these  we 
were  mounted  in  a  novel  fashion.  We  were  first  set  astride 
on  the  bare  backs,  with  our  faces  turned  tailwards.  Our 
feet  were  then  drawn  under  the  necks  of  the  animals,  where 
our  ankles  were  closely  corded  together.  We  were  next 
compelled  to  bend  down  our  bodies  until  we  lay  along  the 
backs  of  the  mules,  our  chins  resting  on  their  rumps.  In 
this  position  our  arms  were  drawn  down  until  our  hands  met 
underneath,  where  they  were  tied  tightly  by  the  wrists. 

The  attitude  was  painful ;  and  to  add  to  this,  our  mules, 
not  used  to  be  thus  "  packed,"  kicked  and  plunged  over  the 
ground,  to  the  great  mirth  of  our  captors. 

This  cruel  sport  was  kept  up  even  after  the  mules  them- 
selves had  got  tired  of  it,  by  the  savages  pricking  the  animals 
with  their  spears,  and  placing  branches  of  the  cactus  under 
their  tails.     We  were  fainting  when  it  ended. 

Our  captors  now  divided  themselves  into  two  parties,  and 
started  up  the  barranca,  taking  opposite  sides.  One  went 
with  the  Mexican  captives  and  the  girls  and  children  of  the 
tribe.  The  larger  party,  under  Dacoma — now  head  chief, 
for  the  other  had  been  killed  in  the  conflict — guarded  us. 

We  were  carried  up  that  side  on  which  was  the  spring, 
and,  arriving  at  the  water,  were  halted  for  the  night.  We 
were  taken  off  the  mules  and  securely  tied  to  one  another, 
our  guard  watching  us  without  intermission  till  morning. 
We  were  then  "  packed  "  as  before,  and  carried  westward 
across  the  desert. 


Artistic  and  Unique  Pottery  of  the  Aztecs. 


CHAPTER  L. 


A    FAST    DYE. 


FTER  a  four  days'  journey,  painful 
even  to  be  remembered,  we  re-entered 
the  valley  of  Navajo.  The  other 
captives,  along  with  the  great  ca- 
ballada,  had  arrived  before  us ;  and 
we  saw  the  plundered  cattle  scat- 
tered over  the  plain. 
As  we  approached  the  town,  we  were  met  by  crowds  of 
women  and  children,  far  more  than  we  had  seen  on  our 
former  visit.  These  were  guests,  who  had  come  in  from 
other  villages  of  the  Navajoes  that  lay  farther  to  the  north. 
They  were  there  to  witness  the  triumphant  return  of  the 
warriors,  and  partake  of  the  great  feast  that  always  follows 
a  successful  foray. 

I  noticed  many  white  faces  among  them,  with  features  of 
the  Iberian  race.     They  had  been  captives  ;  they  were  now 
the  wives  of  warriors.     They  were  dressed  like  the  others, 
26  401 


402  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

and  seemed  to  participate  in  the  general  joy.  They,  like 
Seguin's  daughter,  had  been  Indianized. 

There  were  many  Mestizoes,  half-bloods,  the  descendants 
of  Indians  and  their  Mexican  captives,  the  offspring  of  many 
a  Sabine  wedding. 

We  were  carried  through  the  streets,  and  out  to  the  western 
side  of  the  village.  The  crowd  followed  us  with  mingled  ex- 
clamations of  triumph,  hatred,  and  curiosity.  At  the  distance 
of  a  hundred  yards  or  so  from  the  houses,  and  close  to  the 
river  bank,  our  guards  drew  up. 

I  had  turned  my  eyes  on  all  sides  as  we  passed  through, 
as  well  as  my  awkward  position  would  permit.  I  could  see 
nothing  of  her,  or  any  of  the  female  captives.  Where  could 
they  be  ?     Perhaps  in  the  temple. 

This  building  stood  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  town,  and 
the  houses  prevented  me  from  seeing  it.  Its  top  only  was 
visible  from  the  spot  where  we  had  been  halted. 

We  were  untied  and  taken  down.  We  were  happy  at 
being  relieved  from  the  painful  attitude  in  which  we  had 
ridden  all  the  way.  We  congratulated  ourselves  that  we 
should  now  be  allowed  to  sit  upright.  Our  self-congratula- 
tion was  brief.  We  soon  found  that  the  change  was  "  from 
the  frying-pan  into  the  fire."  We  were  only  to  be  "  turned." 
We  had  hitherto  lain  upon  our  bellies  ;  we  were  now  to  be 
laid  upon  our  backs. 

In  a  few  moments  the  change  was  accomplished,  our 
captors  handling  us  as  unceremoniously  as  though  we  had 
been  inanimate  things.     Indeed  we  were  nearly  so. 

We  were  spread  upon  the  green  turf  on  our  backs. 
Around  each  man  four  long  pins  were  driven  into  the 
ground,  in  the  form  of  a  parallelogram.  Our  arms  and 
legs  were  stretched  out  to  their  widest,  and  raw  hide-thongs 
were  looped  about  our  wrists  and  ankles.  These  were  passed 
over  the  pins  and  drawn  so  tightly  that  our  joints  cracked 


!    T  A   FAST   DYE.  403 

with  the  cruel  tension.  Thus  we  lay,  faces  upturned,  like  so 
many  hides  spread  out  to  be  sun-dried. 

We  were  placed  in  two  ranks,  "  endways,"  in  such  a 
manner  that  the  heads  of  the  front-rank  men  rested  between 
the  feet  of  their  respective  "  rears."  As  there  were  .six  of 
us  in  all,  we  formed  three  files,  with  short  intervals  between. 

Our  attitudes  and  fastenings  left  us  without  the  power  of 
moving  a  limb.  The  only  member  over  which  we  had  any 
control  was  the  head  ;  and  this,  thanks  to  the  flexibility  of 
our  necks,  we  could  turn  about,  so  as  to  see  what  was  going 
on  in  front  or  on  either  side  of  us. 

As  soon  as  we  were  fairly  staked  down,  I  had  the  curiosity 
to  raise  my  head  and  look  around  me.  I  found  that  I  was 
"  rear  rank,  right  file,"  and  that  my  file  leader  was  the  ci- 
devant  soldier  O'Cork. 

The  Indian  guards,  after  having  stripped  us  of  most  of 
our  clothing,  left  us ;  and  the  girls  and  squaws  now  began 
to  crowd  around.  I  noticed  that  they  were  gathering  in  front 
of  my  position,  and  forming  a  dense  circle  around  the  Irish- 
man. I  was  struck  with  their  ludicrous  gestures,  their 
strange  exclamations,  and  the  puzzled  expression  of  their 
countenances. 

"  Ta — yah  !  Ta — yah  !  "  cried  they5  and  the  whole  crowd 
burst  into  shrill  screams  of  laughter. 

What  could  it  mean  ?  Barney  was  evidently  the  subject 
of  their  mirth ;  but  what  was  there  about  him  to  cause  it, 
more  than  about  any  of  the  rest  of  us  ? 

I  raised  my  head  to  ascertain ;  the  riddle  was  solved  at 
once.  One  of  the  Indians,  in  going  off,  had  taken  the  Irish- 
man's cap  with  him,  and  the  little  round  red  head  was  ex- 
posed to  view.  It  lay  midway  between  my  feet,  like  a 
luminous  ball,  and  I  saw  that  it  was  the  object  of  diversion. 

By  degrees,  the  squaws  drew  nearer,  until  they  were  hud- 
dled up  in  a  thick  crowd  around  the  body  of  our  comrade. 


404  THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 

At  length  one  of  them  stooped  and  touched  the  head,  draw- 
ing back  her  fingers  with  a  start  and  a  gesture,  as  though 
she  had  burned  them. 

This  elicited  fresh  peals  of  laughter,  and  very  soon  all  the 
women  of  the  village  were  around  the  Irishman,  "  scroodg- 
ing  "  one  another  to  get  a  closer  view.  None  of  the  rest  of 
us  were  heeded,  except  to  be  liberally  trampled  upon  ;  and 
half  a  dozen  big  heavy  squaws  were  standing  upon  my  limbs, 
the  better  to  see  over  one  another's  shoulders. 

As  there  was  no  great  stock  of  petticoats  to  curtain  the 
view,  I  could  see  the  Irishman's  head  gleaming  like  a  meteor 
through  the  forest  of  ankles. 

After  a  while  the  squaws  grew  less  delicate  in  their  touch ; 
and  catching  hold  of  the  short  stiff  bristles,  endjeavored  to 
pluck  them  out,  all  the  while  screaming  with  laughter. 

I  was  neither  in  the  state  of  mind  nor  the  attitude  to  enjoy 
a  joke  ;  but  there  was  a  language  in  the  back  of  Barney's 
head,  an  expression  of  patient  endurance,  that  would  have 
drawn  smiles  from  a  gravedigger ;  and  Sanchez  and  the 
others  were  laughing  aloud. 

For  a  long  time  our  comrade  endured  the  infliction,  and 
remained  silent ;  but  at  length  it  became  too  painful  for  his 
patience,  and  he  began  to  speak  out. 

"  Arrah,  now,  girls,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  good-humored 
entreaty,  "  will  yez  be  aizy  ?  Did  yez  niver  see  rid  hair  afore  ?  " 

The  squaws,  on  hearing  the  appeal,  which  of  course  they 
understood  not,  only  showed  their  white  teeth  in  loud 
laughter. 

"  In  trath,  an'  iv  I  had  yez  on  the  sod,  at  the  owld  Cove 
o'  Cark  beyant,  I  cud  show  yez  as  much  av  it  as  'ud  contint 
ye  for  yer  lives.  Arrah,  now,  keep  aff  me !  Be  the  powers, 
ye're  trampin'  the  toes  aff  me  feet !  Ach  !  don't  rug  me  ! 
Holy  Mother  1  will  yez  let  me  alone  ?  Divil  resave  ye  for 
a  set  of " 


A    FAST   DYE.  405 

The  tone  in  which  the  last  words  were  uttered  showed  that 
O'Cork  had  at  length  lost  his  temper  ;  but  this  only  increased 
the  assiduity  of  his  tormentors,  whose  mirth  now  broke  be- 
yond bounds.  They  "  plucked  "  him  harder  than  ever,  yell- 
ing all  the  while  ;  so  that,  although  he  continued  to  scold,  I 
could  only  hear  him  at  intervals  ejaculating — "  Mother  av 
Moses!  "  "  Tare-an-ages !  "  "Holy  vistment!"  and  a 
variety  of  similar  exclamations. 

This  scene  continued  for  several  minutes  ;  and  then,  all  at 
once,  there  was  a  lull,  and  a  consultation  among  the  women, 
that  told  us  they  were  devising  some  scheme. 

Several  girls  were  sent  off  to  the  houses.  These  presently 
returned,  bringing  a  large  olla,  and  another  vessel  of  smaller 
dimensions.  What  did  they  intend  to  do  with  these  ?  We 
soon  learned. 

The  olla  was  filled  with  water  from  the  adjacent  stream, 
and  carried  up,  and  the  smaller  vessel  was  set  down  beside 
Barney's  head.  We  saw  that  it  contained  the  yucca  soap  of 
the  Northern  Mexicans.  They  were  going  to  wash  out  the 
red  I 

The  Irishman's  hand-stays  were  now  loosened,  so  that  he 
could  sit  upright ;  and  a  copious  coat  of  the  "  soft  soap  "  was 
laid  on  his  head,  completely  covering  the  hair.  A  couple  of 
sinewy  squaws  then  took  hold  of  him  by  the  shoulders,  and 
with  bunches  of  bark  fibers  applied  the  water,  and  scrubbed 
it  in  lustily. 

The  applications  seemed  to  be  anything  but  pleasant  to 
Barney,  who  roared  out,  ducking  his  head  on  all  sides  to 
avoid  it.  But  this  did  not  serve  him.  One  of  the  squaws 
seized  the  head  between  her  hands,  and  held  it  steady,  while 
the  other  set  to  it  afresh  and  rubbed  harder  than  ever. 

The  Indians  yelled  and  danced  around  :  but  in  the  midst 
of  all  I  could  hear  Barney  sneezing,  and  shouting  in  a 
smothered  voice — 


406  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  Holy  Mother  I — htch-tch  I  Yez  may  rub — tch-itch  I — 
till  yez  fetch-tch  the  skin  aff — atch-ich-ich !  an'  it  won't — 
tscztsh  1 — come  out.  I  tell  yez — itch-ch  1  it's  in  the  grain — 
itch-itch !  It  won't  come  out — itch-itch  ! — be  me  sowl  it 
won't — atch-itch-hitch  !  " 

But  the  poor  fellow's  expostulations  were  in  vain.  The 
scrubbing  continued,  with  fresh  applications  of  the  yucca,  for 
ten  minutes  or  more  ;  and  then  the  great  olla  was  lifted,  and 
its  contents  dashed  upon  his  head  and  shoulders. 

What  was  the  astonishment  of  the  women  to  find  that  in- 
stead of  modifying  the  red  color,  it  only  showed  forth  if  pos- 
sible, more  vivid  than  ever  ! 

Another  olla  of  water  was  lifted,  and  soused  about  the 
Irishman's  ears,  but  with  no  better  effect. 

Barney  had  not  had  such  a  washing  for  many  a  day ;  at 
least,  not  since  he  had  been  under  the  hands  of  the  regimental 
barber. 

When  the  squaws  saw  that,  in  spite  of  all  their  efforts,  the 
dye  still  stuck  fast,  they  desisted,  and  our  comrade  was  again 
staked  down.  His  bed  was  not  so  dry  as  before ;  neither 
was  mine,  for  the  water  had  saturated  the  ground  about  us 
and  we  lay  in  mud.  But  this  was  a  small  vexation,  compared 
with  many  others  we  were  forced  to  put  up  with. 

For  a  long  time  the  Indian  women  and  children  clustered 
around  us,  each  in  turn  minutely  examining  the  head  of  our 
comrade.  We,  too,  came  in  for  a  share  of  their  curiosity ; 
but  O'Cork  was  "  the  elephant." 

They  had  seen  hair  like  ours  oftentimes  upon  their  Mexi- 
can captives  ;  but,  beyond  a  doubt,  Barney's  was  the  first  red 
poll  that  had  ever  been  scratched  in  the  valley  of  Navajoa. 

Darkness  came  on  at  length,  and  the  squaws  returned  to 
the  village,  leaving  us  in  charge  oi.  the  guards,  who  all  the 
night  sat  watchfully  beside. 


Graceful  Dances  Performed  by  Indian  Maidens. 


CHAPTER  LI. 


ASTONISHING  THE  NATIVES. 


P  to  this  time  we  had  no  knowledge  of  the 
fate  that  was  designed  for  us  ;  but,  from  all 
that  we  had  ever  heard  of  these  savages, 
as  well  as  from  our  own  experience  of 
them,  we  anticipated  that  it  would  be  a  cruel  one. 
Sanchez,  however,  who  knew  something  of 
their  language,  left  us  no  room  to  doubt  such  a 
result.  He  had  gathered  from  the  conversation 
of  the  women  what  was  before  us.  After  these  had  gone 
away,  he   unfolded  the  program  as  he  had  heard  it. 

"  To-morrow,"  said  he,  "  they  will  dance  the  mamanchic — 
the  great  dance  of  Montezuma.  That  is  a  fete  among  the 
girls  and  women.     Next  day  will  be  a  grand  tournament,  in 

407 


408  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

which  the  warriors  will  exhibit  their  skill  in  shooting  with  the 
bow,  in  wrestling,  and  feats  of  horsemanship.  If  they  would 
let  me  join  them,  I  could  show  them  how." 

Sanchez,  besides  being  an  accomplished  torero,  had  spent 
his  earlier  years  in  the  circus,  and  was,  as  we  all  knew,  a 
most  splendid  horseman. 

"  On  the  third  day,"  continued  he,  "  we  are  to  '  run  amuck,' 
if  you  know  what  that  is." 

We  had  all  heard  of  it. 

"  And  on  the  fourth " 

"  Well  ?  upon  the  fourth  ?  " 

"  They  will  roast  us  /" 

We  might  have  been  more  startled  at  this  abrupt  declara- 
tion had  the  idea  been  new  to  us,  but  it  was  not.  The  prob- 
ability of  such  an  end  had  been  in  our  thoughts  ever  since 
our  capture.  We  knew  that  they  did  not  save  us  at  the  mine 
for  the  purpose  of  giving  us  an  easier  death  ;  and  we  knew, 
too,  that  these  savages  never  made  me7i  prisoners  to  keep 
them  alive.  Rube  was  an  exception  ;  but  his  story  was  a 
peculiar  one,  and  he  escaped  only  by  his  extreme  cunning. 
"  Their  god,"  continued  Sanchez,  "  is  the  same  as  that  of  the 
Mexican  Aztecs  ;  for  these  people  are  of  that  race,  it  is  be- 
lieved. I  don't  know  much  about  that,  though  I've  heard 
men  talk  of  it.  He  is  called  by  a  devil  of  a  hard  name. 
Carrai!  I  don't  remember  it." 

"  Quetzalcoatl  ? " 

"  Cava/ 7  that's  the  word.  Pues  senores  :  he  is  a  fire-god 
and  fond  of  human  flesh ;  prefers  it  roasted,  so  they  say. 
That's  the  use  we'll  be  put  to.  They'll  roast  us  to  please 
him,  and  at  the  same  time  to  satisfy  themselves.  Dos 
pajaros  al  un  golpe!"   (two  birds  with  one  stone.) 

That  this  was  to  be  our  fate  was  no  longer  probable  but 
certain ;  and  we  slept  upon  the  knowledge  of  it  the  best  way 
we  could. 


ASTONISHING   THE    NATIVES.  409 

In  the  morning  we  observed  dressing  and  painting  among 
the  Indians.  After  that  began  dancing,  the  dance  of  the 
mamanchic. 

This  ceremony  took  place  upon  the  prairie,  at  some  dis- 
tance out  in  front  of  the  temple. 

As  it  was  about  commencing,  we  were  taken  from  our 
spread  positions  and  dragged  up  near  it,  in  order  that  we 
might  witness  the  "  glory  of  the  nation." 

We  were  still  tied,  however,  but  allowed  to  sit  upright. 
This  was  some  relief,  and  we  enjoyed  the  change  of  posture 
much  more  than  the  spectacle. 

I  could  not  describe  the  dance  even  if  I  had  watched  it, 
which  I  did  not.  As  Sanchez  had  said,  it  was  carried  on  only 
by  the  women  of  the  tribe.  Processions  of  young  girls, 
gaily  and  fantastically  attired,  and  carrying  garlands  of  flowers, 
circled  and  leaped  through  a  variety  of  figures.  There  was 
a  raised  platform,  upon  which  a  warrior  and  maiden  repre- 
sented Montezuma  and  his  queen,  and  around  these  the  girls 
danced  and  chanted.  The  ceremony  ended  by  the  dancers 
kneeling  in  front,  in  a  grand  semicircle.  I  saw  that  the 
occupants  of  the  throne  were  Dacoma  and  Adele.  I  fancied 
that  the  girl  looked  sad. 

"  Poor  Seguin  !  "  thought  I  ;  "  there  is  none  to  protect  her 
now.  Even  the  false  father,  the  medicine  chief,  might  have 
been  her  friend.     He  too  is  out  of  the  way,  and " 

But  I  did  not  occupy  much  time  with  thoughts  of  her  :  there 
was  a  far  more  painful  apprehension  than  that.  My  mind, 
as  well  as  my  eyes,  had  dwelt  upon  the  temple  during  the 
ceremony.  We  could  see  it  from  the  spot  where  we  had 
been  thrown  down  ;  but  it  was  too  distant  for  me  to  dis- 
tinguish the  faces  of  the  white  females  that  were  clustered 
along  its  terraces.  She  no  doubt  was  among  them,  but  I  was 
unable  to  make  her  out.  Perhaps  it  was  better  I  was 
not  near  enough.     I  thought  so  at  the  time. 


410  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

I  saw  Indian  men  among  the  captives  ;  and  I  had  observed 
Dacoma,  previous  to  the  commencement  of  the  dance, 
proudly  standing  before  them  in  all  the  paraphernalia  of  his 
regal  robes. 

Rube  had  given  me  the  character  of  this  chief  :  brave, 
but  brutal  and  licentious.  My  heart  was  oppressed  with  a 
painful  heaviness  as  we  were  hurried  back  to  our  former 
places. 

Most  of  the  next  night  was  spent  by  the  Indians  in  feast- 
ing. Not  so  with  us.  We  were  rarely  and  scantily  fed  ; 
and  we  suffered,  too,  from  thirst,  our  savage  guards  scarcely 
deigning  to  supply  us  with  water  ;  though  a  river  was  Tun- 
ing at  our  feet. 

Another  morning,  and  the  feasting  recommenced.  More 
sheep  and  cattle  were  slaughtered,  and  the  fires  steamed 
anew  with  the  red  joints  that  were  suspended  over  them. 

At  an  early  hour  the  warriors  arrayed  themselves,  though 
not  in  war  attire,  and  the  tournament  commenced. 

We  were  again  dragged  forward  to  witness  their  savage 
sports,  but  placed  still  farther  out  on  the  prairie. 

I  could  distinguish,  upon  the  terrace  of  the  temple,  the 
whitish  dresses  of  the  captives.  The  temple  was  their  place 
of  abode. 

Sanchez  had  told  me  this.  He  had  heard  it  from  the  Indians 
as  they  conversed  one  with  another.  The  girls  were  to  re- 
main there  until  the  fifth  day,  that  after  our  sacrifice.  Then 
the  chief  would  choose  one  of  the  number  for  his  own  house- 
hold, and  the  warriors  would  "  gamble  "  for  the  rest  1  Oh, 
these  were  fearful  hours  ! 

Sometimes  I  wished  that  I  could  see  her  again  once  be- 
fore I  died.  And  then  reflection  whispered  me,  it  was  better 
not.  The  knowledge  of  my  fate  would  only  add  fresh  bit- 
terness to  hers.     Oh,  these  were  fearful  hours  1 

I  looked  at  the  savage  tournament.     There  were  feats  of 


ASTONISHING   THE    NATIVES.  411 

arms,  and  feats  of  equitation.  Men  rode  at  a  gallop,  with 
one  foot  only  to  be  seen  over  the  horse,  and  in  this  attitude 
threw  the  javelin  or  shot  the  unerring  shaft.  Others  vaulted 
from  horse  to  horse,  as  they  swept  over  the  prairie  at  rac- 
ing speed.  Some  leaped  to  their  saddles  while  their  horses 
were  running  at  a  gallop,  and  some  exhibited  feats  with  the 
lasso.  Then  there  was  a  mock  encounter,  in  which  the  war- 
riors unhorsed  each  other,  as  knights  of  the  olden  times. 

It  was,  in  fact,  a  magnificent  spectacle  :  a  grand  hippo- 
drome of  the  desert  ;  but  I  had  no  eyes  for  it. 

It  had  more  attraction  for  Sanchez.  I  saw  that  he  was 
observing  every  new  feat  with  interested  attention.  All  at 
once  he  became  restless.  There  was  a  strange  expression 
on  his  face  :  some  thought,  some  sudden  resolve,  had  taken 
possession  of  him. 

"  Say  to  your  braves,"  said  he,  speaking  to  one  of  our 
guards  in  the  Navago  tongue  ;  "  say  that  I  can  beat  the 
best  of  them  at  that.  I  could  teach  them  to  ride  a 
horse." 

The  savage  reported  what  his  prisoner  had  said,  and 
shortly  after  several  mounted  warriors  rode  up,  and  replied 
to  the  taunt. 

"  You  1  a  poor  white  slave,  ride  with  the  warriors  of  Nav- 
ajo 1     Ha  1  ha  1  ha  1 

"  Can  you  ride  upon  your  head  ?  "  inquired  the  torero. 

"  On  our  heads  ?     How  ?  " 

"  Standing  upon  your  head  while  your  horse  is  in  a 
gallop. 

"  No  ;  nor  you,  nor  any  one.  We  are  the  best  riders  on 
the  plains  ;  we  cannot  do  that." 

"  I  can,"  affirmed  the  bull-fighter  with  emphasis. 

"He  is  boasting  !  he  is  a  fool,"  shouted  several. 

"  Let  us  see  !  "  cried  one.  "  Give  him  a  horse  ;  there  is 
no  danger." 


412  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

"  Give  me  my  own  horse,  and  I  will  show  you." 

"  Which  is  your  horse  ?  " 

"  None  of  them  now,  I  suppose  ;  but  bring  me  that  spot- 
ted mustang,  and  clear  me  a  hundred  lengths  of  him  on  the 
prairie,  and  I  shall  teach  you  a  trick." 

As  I  looked  to  ascertain  what  horse  Sanchez  meant,  I  saw 
the  mustang  which  he  had  ridden  from  the  Del  Norte*.  I 
noticed  my  own  favorite,  too,  browsing  with  the  rest. 

After  a  short  consultation  among  themselves,  the  torero's 
request  was  acceded  to.  The  horse  he  had  pointed  out  was 
lassoed  out  of  the  caballada  and  brought  up,  and  our  com- 
rade's thongs  were  taken  off.  The  Indians  had  no  fear  of 
his  escaping.  They  knew  that  they  could  soon  overtake 
such  a  steed  as  the  spotted  mustang  ;  moreover,  there  was 
a  picket  constantly  kept  at  each  entrance  of  the  valley.  Even 
could  he  beat  them  across  the  plains,  it  would  be  impossible 
for  him  to  get  out  to  the  open  country.  The  valley  itself 
was  a  prison. 

Sanchez  was  not  long  in  making  his  preparations.  He 
strapped  a  buffalo-skin  tightly  on  the  back  of  his  horse,  and 
then  led  him  round  for  some  time  in  a  circle,  keeping  him  in 
the  same  track. 

After  practising  thus  for  a  while,  he  dropped  the  bridle 
and  uttered  a  peculiar  cry,  on  hearing  which  the  animal  fell 
into  a  slow  gallop  around  the  circle.  When  the  horse  had 
accomplished  two  or  three  rounds,  the  torero  leaped  upon 
his  back,  and  performed  the  well-known  feat  of  riding  on  his 
head. 

Although  a  common  one  among  professional  equestrians, 
it  was  new  to  the  Navajoes,  who  looked  on  with  shouts  of 
wonder  and  admiration.  They  caused  the  torero,  to  re- 
peat it  again  and  again,  until  the  spotted  mustang  had  be- 
come all  of  one  color. 

Sanchez,  however,  did  not  leave  off  until   he  had  given 


ASTONISHING   THE   NATIVES. 


413 


his    spectators    the   full  program   of  the   "  ring,"  and    had 
fairly  "  astonished  the  natives." 

When  the  tournament  was  ended,  and  we  were  "  hauled  " 
back  to  the  river  side,  the  torero  was  not  with  us.  Fortu- 
nate Sanchez  !  He  had  won  his  life  !  Henceforth  he  was 
to  be  riding-master  to  the  Navajo  nation  1 


CHAPTER  LII. 

RUNNING    AMUCK. 

NOTHER  day 

came :  our  day 
for  action.  We 
saw  our    ene- 
mies making  their  prep- 
arations ;  we  saw   them 
go  off  to  the  woods,  and 
return     bringing    clubs 
freshly  cut  from  the  trees ; 
we  saw  them  dress  as  for 
ball-play  or  running. 
At  an  early  hour  we  were  taken  forward  to  the  front  of 
the  temple.     On  arriving   there,  I  cast  my  eyes   upward  to 
the  terrace.     My  betrothed   was   above   me  ;  I  was  recog- 
nized. 

There  was  mud  upon  my  scanty  garments,  and  spots  of 
blood  ;  there  was  dust  on  my  hair  ;  there  were  scars  upon 
my  arms  ;  my  face  and  throat  were  stained  with  powder, 
blotches  of  black  burnt  powder  ;  in  spite  of  all,  I  was  rec- 
ognized. The  eyes  of  love  saw  through  all  1 
414 


RUNNING   AMUCK.  415 

I  find  no  scene  in  all  my  experience  so  difficult  to  de- 
scribe as  this.  Why  ?  There  was  none  so  terrible  ;  none  in 
which  so  many  wild  emotions  were  crowded  into  a  move- 
ment. A  love  like  ours,  tantalized  by  proximity,  almost 
within  reach  of  each  other's  embrace,  yet  separated  by  re- 
lentless fate,  and  that  forever  ;  the  knowledge  of  each 
other's  situation  ;  the  certainty  of  my  death  and  her  dis- 
honor :  these  and  a  hundred  kindred  thoughts  rushed  into 
our  hearts  together.  They  could  not  be  detailed  ;  they  can- 
not be  described  ;  words  will  not  express  them.  You  may 
summon  fancy  to  your  aid. 

I  heard  her  screams,  her  wild  words  and  wilder  weeping. 
I  saw  her  snowy  cheek  and  streaming  hair,  as,  frantic,  she 
rushed  forward  on  the  parapet  as  if  to  spring  out.  I  wit- 
nessed her  struggles  as  she  was  drawn  back  by  her  fellow- 
captives  ;  and  then,  all  at  once,  she  was  quiet  in  their  arms. 
She  had  fainted,  and  was  borne  out  of  my  sight. 

I  was  tied  by  the  wrists  and  ankles.  During  the  scene  I 
had  twice  risen  to  my  feet,  forced  up  by  my  emotions,  but 
only  to  fall  down  again. 

I  made  no  further  effort,  but  lay  upon  the  ground  in  the 
agony  of  impotence. 

It  was  but  a  short  moment  ;  but,  oh  !  the  feelings  that 
passed  over  my  soul  in  that  moment  1  It  was  the  com- 
pressed misery  of  a  lifetime. 


For  a  period  of  perhaps  half  an  hour  I  regarded  not  what 
was  going  on  around  me.  My  mind  was  not  abstracted,  but 
paralyzed :  absolutely  dead.  I  had  no  thoughts  about 
anything. 

I  awoke  at  length  from  this  stupor.  I  saw  that  the  sav- 
ages had  completed  their  preparations  for  the  cruel  sport. 

Two  rows  of  men  extended  across  the  plain  to  a  distance 


416  THE    SCALP-HUNTERS. 

of  several  hundred  yards.  They  were  armed  with  clubs, 
and  stood  facing  each  other  with  an  interval  of  three  or 
four  paces  between  their  ranks.  Down  the  interval  we  were 
to  run,  receiving  blows  from  every  one  who  could  give  them 
as  we  passed.  Should  any  of  us  succeed  in  running  through 
the  whole  line,  and  reach  the  mountain  foot  before  we  could 
be  overtaken,  the  promise  was  that  our  lives  should  be  spared  ! 

"  Is  this  true,  Sanchez  ?  "  I  whispered  to  the  torero  who 
was  standing  near  me. 

"  No,"  was  the  reply,  given  also  in  a  whisper.  "  It  is  only 
a  trick  to  make  you  run  the  better  and  show  them  the  more 
sport.     You  are  to  die  all  the  same.     I  heard  them  say  so." 

Indeed,  it  would  have  been  slight  grace  had  they  given 
us  our  lives  on  such  conditions  ;  for  it  would  have  been  im- 
possible for  the  strongest  and  swiftest  man  to  have  passed 
through  between  their  lines. 

"  Sanchez  !  "  I  said  again,  addressing  the  torero,  "  Se- 
guin  was  your  friend.     You  will  do  all  you  can  for  her  ?  " 

Sanchez  well  knew  whom  I  meant. 

"  I  will !  I  will  !  "  he  replied,  seeming  deeply  affected. 

"  Brave  Sanchez  !  tell  her  how  I  felt  for  her.  No,  no, 
you  need  not  tell  her  that." 

I  scarce  knew  what  I  was  saying. 

"  Sanchez  !  "  I  again  whispered  —  thought  that  had 
been  in  my  mind  now  returning — "  could  you  not — a  knife, 
a  weapon — anything — could  you  not  drop  one  when  I  am 
set  loose  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  of  no  use.  You  could  not  escape  if  you  had 
fifty." 

"  It  may  be  that  I  could  not.  I  would  try.  At  the  worst, 
I  can  but  die  ;  and  better  die  with  a  weapon  in  my  hands  !  ". 

"  It  would  be  better,"  muttered  the  torero  in  reply.     "  I 

will  try  to  help  you  to  a  weapon,  but  my  life  may  be " 

he  paused.     "  If  you  look  behind  you,"  he  continued  in  a 


RUNNING   AMUCK. 


417 


significant  manner,  while  he  appeared  to  examine  the  tops 
of  the  distant  mountains,  "  you  may  see  a  tomahawk.  I 
think  it  is  held  carelessly.     It  might  be  snatched/' 

I   understood  his  meaning,   and  stole   a    glance  around. 
Dacoma  was  at  a  few  paces'  distance,  superintending  the 


Gambling  Among  the  Indians.     Game  of  Bowl  and  Counters. 

start.     I  saw  the  weapon   in  his  belt.     It  was  loosely  stuck. 
It  might  be  snatched  ! 

I  possess  extreme  tenacity  of  life,  with  energy  to  preserve 

it.      I  have   not  illustrated  this   energy   in   the   adventures 

through  which  we  have   passed  ;  for,  up   to  a   late  period,  I 

was  merely  a  passive  spectator  of  the  scenes  enacted,  and 

27 


418  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

in  general  disgusted  with  their  enactment.  But  at  other 
times  I  have  proved  the  existence  of  those  traits  in  my 
character.  In  the  field  of  battle,  to  my  knowledge,  I  have 
saved  my  life  three  times  by  the  quick  perception  of  danger 
and  the  promptness  to  ward  it  off.  Either  less  or  more 
brave,  I  should  have  lost  it.  This  may  seem  an  enigma ;  it 
appears  a  puzzle  :  it  is  an  experience. 

In  my  earlier  life  I  was  addicted  to  what  are  termed 
"  manly  sports."  In  running  and  leaping  I  never  met  my 
superior ;  and  my  feats  in  such  exercises  are  still  recorded 
in  the  memories  of  my  college  companions. 

Do  not  wrong  me,  and  think  that  I  am  boasting  of  these 
peculiarities.  The  first  is  but  an  accident  in  my  mental 
character ;  and  others  are  only  rude  accomplishments,  which 
now,  in  my  more  matured  life,  I  see  but  little  reason  to  be 
proud  of.     I  mention  them  only  to  illustrate  what  follows. 

Ever  since  the  hour  of  my  capture  I  had  busied  my  mind 
with  plans  of  escape.  Not  the  slightest  opportunity  had  as 
yet  offered.  All  along  the  journey  we  had  been  guarded  with 
the  most  zealous  vigilance. 

During  this  last  night  a  new  plan  had  occupied  me.  It 
had  been  suggested  by  seeing  Sanchez  upon  his  horse. 

I  had  matured  it  all  except  getting  possession  of  a  weapon  ; 
and  I  had  hopes  of  escape,  although  I  had  neither  time  nor 
opportunity  to  detail  them  to  the  torero.  It  would  have 
served  no  purpose  to  have  told  him  them. 

I  knew  that  I  might  escape,  even  without  the  weapon  ;  but 
I  needed  it,  in  case  there  might  be  in  the  tribe  a  faster  runner 
than  myself.  I  might  be  killed  in  the  attempt ;  that  was 
likely  enough ;  but  I  knew  that  death  could  not  come  in  a 
worse  shape  than  that  in  which  I  was  to  meet  it  on  the 
morrow.  Weapon  or  no  weapon,  I  was  resolved  to  escape, 
or  die  in  attempting  it. 

I  saw  them  untying  O'Cork.     He  was  to  run  first 


RUNNING  AMUCK.  419 

There  was  a  circle  of  savages  around  the  starting  point ; 
old  men  and  idlers  of  the  village,  who  stood  there  only  to 
witness  the  sport. 

There  was  no  apprehension  of  our  escaping :  that  was 
never  thought  of  ;  an  enclosed  valley,  with  guards  at  each 
entrance  ;  plenty  of  horses  standing  close  by,  that  could  be 
mounted  in  a  few  minutes.  It  would  be  impossible  for  any 
of  us  to  get  away  from  the  ground.  At  least,  so  thought 
they. 

O'Cork  started. 

Poor  Barney !  His  race  was  not  a  long  one.  He  had 
not  run  ten  paces  down  the  living  avenue  when  he  was 
knocked  over,  and  carried  back,  bleeding  and  senseless 
amidst  the  yells  of  the  delighted  crowd. 

Another  of  the  men  shared  a  similar  fate,  and  another  ; 
and  then  they  unbound  me. 

I  rose  to  my  feet,  and,  during  the  short  interval  allowed 
me,  stretched  my  limbs,  imbuing  my  soul  and  body  with  all 
the  energy  that  my  desperate  circumstances  enabled  me  to 
concentrate  within  them. 

The  signal  was  again  given  for  the  Indians  to  be  ready, 
and  they  were  soon  in  their  places,  brandishing  their  long 
clubs,  and  impatiently  waiting  for  me  to  make  the 
start. 

Dacoma  was  behind  me.  With  a  side  glance  I  had  marked 
well  where  he  stood  ;  and  backing  towards  him,  under  pre- 
tence of  getting  a  fairer  "  break,"  I  came  close  up  to  the 
savage.  Then  suddenly  wheeling,  with  the  spring  of  a  cat 
and  the  dexterity  of  a  thief,  I  caught  the  tomahawk  and 
jerked  it  from  his  belt. 

I  aimed  a  blow,  but  in  my  hurry  missed  him.  I  had  no 
time  for  another.  I  turned  and  ran.  He  was  so  taken  by 
surprise  that  I  was  out  of  his  reach  before  he  could  make  a 
motion  to  follow  me. 


420  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

I  ran,  not  for  the  open  avenue,  but  to  one  side  of  the 
circle  of  spectators,  where  were  the  old  men  and  idlers. 

These  had  drawn  their  hand  weapons,  and  were  closing  to- 
wards me  in  a  thick  rank.  Instead  of  endeavoring  to  break 
through  them,  which  I  doubted  my  ability  to  accomplish,  I 
threw  all  my  energy  into  the  spring,  and  leaped  clear  over 
their  shoulders.  Two  or  three  stragglers  struck  at  me  as  I 
passed  them,  but  missed  their  aim  ;  and  the  next  moment  I 
was  out  upon  the  open  plain,  with  the  whole  village  yelling 
at  my  heels. 

I  well  knew  for  what  I  was  running.  Had  it  not  been  for 
that,  I  should  never  have  made  the  start.  I  was  running  for 
the  caballada. 

I  was  running,  too,  for  my  life,  and  I  required  no  encour- 
agement to  induce  me  to  make  the  best  of  it. 

I  soon  distanced  those  who  had  been  nearest  me  at  start- 
ing ;  but  the  swiftest  of  the  Indians  were  the  young  men 
who  had  formed  the  lines,  and  I  saw  that  these  were  now 
forging  ahead  of  the  others. 

Still  they  were  not  gaining  upon  me.  My  school  training 
stood  me  in  service  now. 

After  a  mile's  chase,  I  saw  that  I  was  within  less  than 
half  that  distance  of  the  caballada,  and  at  least  three 
hundred  yards  ahead  of  my  pursuers ;  but  to  my  horror 
as  I  glanced  back,  I  saw  mounted  men  !  They  were  still  far 
behind,  but  I  knew  they  would  soon  come  up.  Was  it  pos- 
sible he  could  hear  me  ? 

I  knew  that  in  these  elevated  regions  sounds  are  heard 
twice  the  ordinary  distance  ;  and  I  shouted,  at  the  top  of 
my  voice,  "  Moro  !  Moro  !  " 

I  did  not  halt,  but  ran  on,  calling  as  I  went. 

I  saw  a  sudden  commotion  among  the  horses.  Their 
heads  were  tossed  up,  and  then  one  dashed  out  from  the 
drove  and  came  galloping  towards  me.     I   knew  the  broad 


RUNNING   AMUCK. 


421 

Tt 


black  chest  and  red  muzzle.     I  knew  them  at  a  glance 
was  my  brave  steed  :  my  Moro  ! 

The  rest  followed,  trooping  after  ;  but  before  they  were 
up  to  trample  me,  I  had  met  my  horse,  and  flung  myself, 
panting,  upon  his  back  ! 

I  had  no  rein ;  but  my  favorite  was  used  to  the  guidance 
of  my  voice,  hands  and  knees  ;  and  directing  him  through 
the  herd,  I  headed  for  the  western  end  of  the  valley.  I 
heard  the  yells  of  the  mounted  savages  as  I  cleared  the 
caballada  ;  and  looking  back,  I  saw  a  string  of  twenty  or 
more  coming  after  me  as  fast  as  their  horses  could  gallop. 

But  I  had  no  fear  of  them  now.  I  knew  my  Moro  too 
well ;  and  after  I  had  cleared  the  ten  miles  of  valley,  and 
was  springing  up  the  steep  front  of  the  sierra,  I  saw  my 
pursuers  still  back  upon  the  plain,  at  a  distance  of  several 
miles. 


Y  horse,  idle  for  days, 
had  recovered  his  full 
action,  and  bore  me 
up  the  rocky  path  with 
proud  springy  step.  My  nerves 
drew  vigor  from  his,  and  the 
~/jMJ ':  strength  of  my  body  was  fast  re- 
turning. It  was  well.  I  would 
soon  be  called  upon  to  use  it.  T7ie  picket  was  still  to  be  passed. 
While  escaping  from  the  town,  in  the  excitement  of  the 
more  proximate  peril  I  had  not  thought  of  this  ulterior  one. 
I  now  remembered  it.  It  flashed  upon  me  of  a  sudden,  and  I 
commenced  gathering  my  resolution  to  meet  it. 

I  knew  there  was  a  picket  upon  the  mountain  !  Sanchez 
had  said  so ;  he  had  heard  them  say  so.  What  number  of 
men  composed  it ;  Sanchez  had  said  two,  but  he  was  not 
certain  of  this.  Two  would  be  enough,  more  than  enough 
for  me,  still  weak,  and  armed  as  I  was  with  a  weapon  in  the 
use  of  which  I  had  little  skill. 

How  would  they  be  armed  ?     Doubtless  with  bows,  lances, 
tomahawks,  and  knives.     The  odds  were  all  against  me. 
At  what  point  should  I  find  them  ?     They  were  videttes. 
422 


A   CONFLICT    UPON    A   CLIFF.  423 

Their  chief  duty  was  to  watch  the  plains  without.  They  would 
be  at   some  station,  then,  commanding  a  view  of  these. 

I  remembered  the  road  well ;  the  same  by  which  we  had 
first  entered  the  valley.  There  was  a  platform  near  the 
western  brow  of  the  sierra.  I  recollected  it,  for  we  had 
halted  upon  it  while  our  guide  went  forward  to  reconnoiter. 
A  cliff  overhung  this  platform.  I  remembered  that  too ;  for 
during  the  absence  of  the  guide,  Seguin  and  I  had  dis- 
mounted and  climbed  it.  It  commanded  a  view  of  the  whole 
outside  country  to  the  south  and  west.  No  doubt,  then,  on 
that  very  cliff  would  the  videttes  be  stationed. 

Would  they  be  on  its  top  ?  If  so,  it  might  be  best  to 
make  a  dash,  and  pass  them  before  they  could  descend  to 
the  road,  running  the  risk  of  their  missiles,  their  arrows  and 
lances.  Make  a  dash  !  No  ;  that  would  be  impossible.  I 
remembered  that  the  path  at  both  ends  of  the  platform 
narrowed  to  a  width  of  only  a  few  feet,  with  the  cliff  rising 
above  it  and  the  canon  yawning  below.  It  was,  in  fact,  only 
a  ledge  of  the  precipice,  along  which  it  was  dangerous  to 
pass  even  at  a  walk.  Moreover,  I  had  re-shod  my  horse  at 
the  mission.  The  iron  was  worn  smooth  ;  and  I  knew  that 
the  rock  was  as  slippery  as  glass. 

All  these  thoughts  passed  through  my  mind  as  I  neared 
the  summit  of  the  sierra.  The  prospect  was  appalling.  The 
peril  before  me  was  extreme,  and  under  other  circumstances 
I  would  have  hesitated  to  encounter  it.  But  I  knew  that 
that  which  threatened  from  behind  was  not  less  desperate. 
There  was  no  alternative ;  and  with  only  half-formed  re- 
solutions as  to  how  I  should  act,  I  pushed  forward. 

I  rode  with  caution,  directing  my  horse  as  well  as  I  could 
upon  the  softer  parts  of  the  trail,  so  that  his  hoof-strokes 
might  not  be  heard.  At  every  turn  I  halted,  and  scanned 
the  profile  of  each  new  prospect ;  but  I  did  not  halt  longer 
than  I  could  help.     I  knew  that  I  had  no  time  to  waste. 


424  THE  SCALP-HUNTERS. 

The  road  ascended  through  a  thin  wood  of  cedars  and 
dwarf  pinons.  It  would  zigzag  up  the  face  of  the  mountain. 
Near  the  crest  of  the  sierra  it  turned  sharply  to  the  right, 
and  trended  in  to  the  brow  of  the  canon.  There  the  ledge 
already  mentioned  became  the  path,  and  the  road  followed 
its  narrow  terrace  along  the  very  face  of  the  precipice. 

On  reaching  this  point  I  caught  view  of  the  cliff  where  I 
expected  to  see  the  vidette.  I  had  guessed  correctly:  he 
was  there,  and,  to  my  agreeable  surprise,  there  was  only 
one  :  a  single  savage. 

He  was  seated  upon  the  very  topmost  rock  of  the  sierra, 
and  his  large  brown  body  was  distinctly  visible,  outlined 
against  the  pale  blue  sky.  He  was  not  more  than  three 
hundred  yards  from  me,  and  about  a  third  of  that  distance 
above  the  level  of  the  ledge  along  which  I  had  to  pass. 

I  halted  the  moment  I  caught  sight  of  him,  and  sat  making 
a  hurried  teco?inaissance.  As  yet  he  had  neither  seen  nor 
heard  me.  His  back  was  to  me,  and  he  appeared  to  be 
gazing  intently  towards  the  west.  Beside  the  rock  on  which 
he  was,  his  spear  was  sticking  in  the  ground,  and  his  shield, 
bow,  and  quiver  were  leaning  against  it.  I  could  see  upon 
his  person  the  sparkle  of  a  knife  and  tomahawk. 

I  have  said  my  recotmaissance  was  a  hurried  one.  I  was 
conscious  of  the  value  of  every  moment,  and  almost  at  a 
glance  I  formed  my  resolution.  That  was,  to  "  run  the 
gauntlet,"  and  attempt  passing  before  the  Indian  could  de- 
scend to  intercept  me.  Obedient  to  this  impulse,  I  gave  my 
animal  the  signal  to  move  forward. 

I  rode  slowly  and  cautiously,  for  two  reasons  :  because 
my  horse  dared  not  go  otherwise  ;  and  I  thought  that,  by 
riding  quietly,  I  might  get  beyond  the  vidette  without  at- 
tracting his  notice.  The  torrent  was  hissing  below.  Its 
roar  ascended  to  the  cliff :  it  might  drown  the  sound  of  the 
hoof-strokes. 


A   CONFLICT   UPON    A   CLIFF.  42$ 

With  this  hope  I  stole  onward.  My  eye  passed  rapidly 
from  one  to  the  other  ;  from  the  savage  on  the  cliff  to  the 
perilous  path  along  which  my  horse  crawled,  shivering  with 
affright. 

When  I  had  advanced  about  six  lengths  upon  the  ledge, 
the  platform  came  in  view,  and  with  it  a  group  of  objects 
that  caused  me  to  reach  suddenly  forward  and  grasp  the 
forelock  of  my  Moro  ;  a  sign  by  which,  in  the  absence  of  a 
bit,  I  could  always  halt  him.  He  came  at  once  to  a  stand, 
and  I  surveyed  the  objects  before  me  with  a  feeling  of 
despair. 

They  were  two  horses,  mustangs ;  and  a  man,  an  Indian. 
The  mustangs,  bridled  and  saddled,  were  standing  quietly 
out  upon  the  platform  ;  and  a  lasso,  tied  to  the  bit-ring  of 
one  of  them,  was  coiled  around  the  wrist  of  the  Indian.  The 
latter  was  sitting  upon  his  hams,  close  up  to  the  cliff,  so  that 
his  back  touched  the  rock.  His  arms  lay  horizontally  across 
his  knees,  and  upon  these  his  head  rested.  I  saw  that  he 
was  asleep.  Beside  him  were  his  bow  and  quiver,  his  lance 
and  shield  ;  all  leaning  against  the  cliff. 

My  situation  was  a  terrible  one.  I  knew  that  I  could 
not  pass  him  without  being  heard,  and  I  knew  that  pass  him 
I  must.  In  fact,  I  could  not  have  gone  back  had  I  wished 
it ;  for  I  had  already  entered  upon  the  ledge,  and  was  riding 
along  a  narrow  shelf  where  my  horse  could  not  possibly  have 
turned  himself. 

All  at  once,  the  idea  entered  my  mind  that  I  might  slip 
to  the  ground,  steal  forward,  and  with  my  tomahawk 

It  was  a  cruel  thought,  but  it  was  the  impulse  of  instinct ; 
the  instinct  of  self-preservation. 

It  was  not  decreed  that  I  should  adopt  so  fearful  an  alter- 
native. Moro,  impatient  at  being  delayed  in  the  perilous  pos- 
ition snorted  and  struck  the  rock  with  his  hoof.  The  clink  of 
the  iron  was  enough  for  the  sharp  ears  of  the  Spanish  horses. 


426  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

They  neighed  on  the  instant.  The  savages  sprang  to  their 
feet,  and  their  simultaneous  yell  told  me  that  both  had  dis- 
covered me. 

I  saw  the  vidette  upon  the  cliff  pluck  up  his  spear,  and 
commence  hurrying  downward ;  but  my  attention  was  soon 
exclusively  occupied  with  his  comrade. 

The  latter,  on  seeing  me,  had  leaped  to  his  feet,  seized 
his  bow,  and  vaulted,  as  if  mechanically,  upon  the  back  of 
his  mustang.  Then,  uttering  a  wild  shout,  he  trotted  over 
the  platform,  and  advanced  along  the  ledge  to  meet  me. 

An  arrow  whizzed  past  my  head  as  he  came  up ;  but  in 
his  hurry  he  had  aimed  badly. 

Our  horses'  heads  met.  They  stood  muzzle  to  muzzle 
with  eyes  dilated,  their  red  nostrils  steaming  into  each  other. 
Both  snorted  fiercely,  as  if  each  was  imbued  with  the  wrath 
of  his  rider.  They  seemed  to  know  that  a  death-strife  was 
between  us. 

They  seemed  conscious,  too,  of  their  own  danger.  They 
had  met  at  the  very  narrowest  part  of  the  ledge.  Neither 
could  have  turned  or  backed  off  again.  One  or  other  must 
go  over  the  cliff ;  must  fall  through  a  depth  of  a  thousand 
feet  into  the  stony  channel  of  the  torrent ! 

I  sat  with  a  feeling  of  utter  helplessness.  I  had  no 
weapon  with  which  I  could  reach  my  antagonist ;  no  missile. 
He  had  his  bow,  and  I  saw  him  adjusting  a  second  arrow  to 
the  string. 

At  this  crisis  three  thoughts  passed  through  my  mind ; 
not  as  I  detail  them  here,  but  following  each  other  like  quick 
flashes  of  lightning.  My  first  impulse  was  to  urge  my  horse 
forward,  trusting  to  his  superior  weight  to  precipitate  the 
lighter  animal  from  the  ledge.  Had  I  been  worth  a  bridle 
and  spurs,  I  should  have  adopted  this  plan ;  but  I  had 
neither,  and  the  chances  were  too  desperate  without  them. 
I  abandoned  it  for  another.     I  would  hurl  my  tomahawk  at 


A  CONFLICT   UPON   A   CLIFF. 


427 


the  head  of  my  antagonist.     No !     The  third  thought !     I 
will  dismount,  and  use  my  weapon  upon  the  mustang. 


Apache  Woman  Weaving  a  Belt. 

This  last  was  clearly  the  best ;  and,  obedient  to  its  im- 
pulse, I  slipped  down  between  Moro  and  the  cliff.     As  I  did 


428  THE   SCALP- HUNTERS. 

so,  I  heard  the  "  hist "  of  another  arrow  passing  my  cheek. 
It  had  missed  me  from  the  suddenness  of  my  movements. 

In  an  instant  I  squeezed  past  the  flanks  of  my  horse,  and 
glided  forward  upon  the  ledge,  directly  in  front  of  my  ad- 
versary. 

The  animal  seeming  to  guess  my  intentions,  snorted  with 
affright  and  reared  up,  but  was  compelled  to  drop  again 
into  the  same  tracks. 

The  Indian  was  fixing  another  shaft.  Its  notch  never 
reached  the  string.  As  the  hoofs  of  the  mustang  came 
down  upon  the  rock,  I  aimed  my  blow.  I  struck  the  animal 
over  the  eye.  I  felt  the  skull  yielding  before  my  hatchet, 
and  the  next  moment  horse  and  rider,  the  latter  screaming 
and  struggling  to  clear  himself  of  the  saddle,  disappeared 
over  the  cliff. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence ;  a  long  moment,  in  which 
I  knew  they  were  falling — falling — down  that  fearful  depth. 
Then  came  a  loud  splash,  the  concussion  of  their  united 
bodies  on  the  water  below  ! 

I  had  no  curiosity  to  look  over,  and  as  little  time.  When 
I  regained  my  upright  attitude  (for  I  had  come  to  my  knees 
in  giving  the  blow),  I  saw  the  vidette  just  leaping  upon  the 
platform.  He  did  not  halt  a  moment,  but  advanced  at  a 
run,  holding  his  spear  at  the  charge. 

I  saw  that  I  should  be  impaled  unless  I  could  parry  the 
thrust.  I  struck  wildly,  but  with  success.  The  lance-blade 
glinted  from  the  head  of  my  weapon.  Its  shaft  passed  me  ; 
and  our  bodies  met  with  a  shock  that  caused  us  both  to  reel 
upon  the  very  edge  of  the  cliff. 

As  soon  as  I  had  recovered  my  balance,  I  followed  up  my 
blows,  keeping  close  to  my  antagonist,  so  that  he  could  not 
again  use  his  lance.  Seeing  this,  he  dropped  the  weapon 
and  drew  his  tomahawk.  We  now  fought  hand  to  hand, 
hatchet  to  hatchet 


A   CONFLICT    UPON    A   CLIFF.  429 

Backward  and  forward  along  the  ledge  we  drove  each 
other  as  the  advantage  of  the  blows  told  in  favor  of  either 
or  against  him. 

Several  times  we  grappled,  and  would  have  pushed  each 
other  over ;  but  the  fear  that  each  felt  of  being  dragged 
after  mutually  restrained  us,  and  we  let  go,  and  trusted 
again  to  our  tomahawks. 

Not  a  word  passed  between  us.  We  had  nothing  to  say, 
even  could  we  have  understood  each  other.  But  we  had  no 
boast  to  make,  no  taunt  to  urge,  nothing  before  our  minds 
but  the  fixed  dark  purpose  of  murdering  one  another  1 

After  the  first  onset  the  Indian  had  ceased  yelling,  and 
we  both  fought  in  the  intense  earnestness  of  silence. 

There  were  sounds,  though  :  an  occasional  sharp  excla- 
mation, our  quick  high  breathing,  the  clinking  of  our  toma- 
hawks, the  neighing  of  our  horses,  and  the  continuous  roar 
of  the  torrent.  These  were  the  symphonies  of  our  con- 
flict. 

For  some  minutes  we  battled  upon  the  ledge.  We  were 
both  cut  and  bruised  in  several  places,  but  neither  of  us  had 
as  yet  received  or  inflicted  a  mortal  wound. 

At  length,  after  a  continuous  shower  of  blows,  I  succeeded 
in  beating  my  adversary  back,  until  we  found  ourselves  out 
upon  the  platform.  There  we  had  ample  room  to  wind  our 
weapons,  and  we  struck  with  more  energy  than  ever.  After 
a  few  strokes,  our  tomahawks  met,  with  a  violent  concussion, 
that  sent  them  flying  from  our  hands. 

Neither  dared  stoop  to  regain  his  weapon  ;  and  we  rushed 
upon  each  other  with  naked  arms,  clutched,  wrestled  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  fell  together  to  the  earth.  I  thought  my 
antagonist  had  a  knife.  I  must  have  been  mistaken,  other- 
wise he  would  have  used  it  ;  but  without  it,  I  soon  found 
that  in  this  species  of  encounter  he  was  my  master.  His 
muscular  arms  encircled  me  until  my  ribs  cracked  under  the 


430  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

embrace.  We  rolled  along  the  ground,  over  and  over  each 
other.  Oh  God  1  we  were  nearing  the  edge  of  the  preci- 
pice! 

I  could  not  free  myself  from  his  grasp.  His  sinewy  fingers 
were  across  my  throat.  They  clasped  me  tightly  around 
the  trachea,  stopping  my  breath.     He  was  strangling  me. 

I  grew  weak  and  nerveless.  I  could  resist  no  longer.  I 
felt  my  hold  relax.  I  grew  weaker  and  weaker. — I  was  dy- 
ing.    I  was — I — oh  heaven  !  pard — on.     Oh — ! 

I  could  not  have  been  long  insensible  ;  for  when  conscious- 
ness returned  I  was  still  warm,  sweating  from  the  effects  of 
the  struggle,  and  my  wounds  were  bleeding  freshly  and  free- 
ly. I  felt  that  I  yet  lived.  I  saw  that  I  was  still  upon  the 
platform  ;  but  where  was  my  antagonist  ?  Why  had  not  he 
finished  me  ?     Why  had  not  he  flung  me  over  the  cliff  ? 

I  rose  upon  my  elbow  and  looked  around.  I  could  see  no 
living  things  but  my  own  horse,  and  that  of  the  Indian  gallop- 
ing over  the  platform,  kicking  and  plunging  at  each  other. 

But  I  heard  sounds,  sounds  of  fearful  import,  like  the 
hoarse,  angry,  worrying  of  dogs,  mingling  with  the  cries  of 
a  human  voice  ;  a  voice  uttered  in  agony  ! 

What  could  it  mean  ?  I  saw  that  there  was  a  break  in  the 
platform,  a  deep  cut  in  the  rock ;  and  out  of  this  the  sounds 
appeared  to  issue. 

I  rose  to  my  feet,  and,  tottering  towards  the  spot,  looked 
in.  It  was  an  awful  sight  to  look  upon.  The  gully  was  some 
ten  feet  in  depth ;  and  at  its  bottom,  among  the  weeds  and 
cacti,  a  huge  dog  was  engaged  in  tearing  something  that 
screamed  and  struggled.  It  was  a  man,  an  Indian.  All  was 
explained  at  a  glance.  The  dog  was  Alp  ;  the  man  was  my 
late  antagonist ! 

As  I  came  upon  the  edge,  the  dog  was  on  the  top  of  his 
adversary,  and  kept  himself  uppermost  by  desperate  bounds 


A  CONFLICT   UPON   A   CLIFF.  43 1 

from  side  to  side,  still  dashing  the  other  back  as  he  attempted 
to  rise  to  his  feet.  The  savage  was  crying  in  despair.  I 
thought  I  saw  the  teeth  of  the  animal  fast  in  his  throat,  but 
I  watched  the  struggle  no  longer.  Voices  from  behind 
caused  me  to  turn  round.  My  pursuers  had  reached  the 
canon,  and  were  urging  their  animals  along  the  ledge. 

I  staggered  to  my  horse,  and  springing  upon  his  back  once 
more  directed  him  to  the  terrace  ;  that  part  which  led  out- 
ward. In  a  few  minutes  I  had  cleared  the  cliff  and  was 
hurrying  down  the  mountain.  As  I  approached  its  foot  I 
heard  a  rustling  in  the  bushes  that  on  both  sides  lined  the 
path.  Then  an  object  sprang  out  a  short  distance  behind 
me.     It  was  the  St.  Bernard. 

As  he  came  alongside  he  uttered  a  low  whimper  and  once 
or  twice  wagged  his  tail.  I  knew  not  how  he  could  have 
escaped,  for  he  must  have  waited  until  the  Indians  reached 
the  platform  ;  but  the  fresh  blood  that  stained  his  jaws,  and 
clotted  the  shaggy  hair  upon  his  breast,  showed  that  he  had 
left  one  with  but  little  power  to  detain  him. 

On  reaching  the  plain  I  looked  back.  I  saAv  my  pursuers 
coming  down  the  face  of  the  sierra ;  but  I  had  still  nearly 
half  a  mile  of  start,  and,  taking  the  snowy  mountain  for  my 
guide,  I  struck  out  into  the  open  prairie. 


CHAPTER  LIV. 


AN   UNEXPECTED    RENCONTRE. 


S  I  rode  off  from  the  mountain  foot, 
the  white  peak  glistened  at  a  dis- 
tance of  thirty  miles.  There  was  not 
a  hillock  between ;  not  a  brake  or 
bush  excepting  the  low  shrubs  of  the 
artemisia. 

It  was  not  yet  noon.  Could  I  reach  the  snowy  mountain 
before  sunset  ?  If  so,  I  trusted  in  being  able  to  follow  our 
old  trail  to  the  mine.  Thence  I  might  keep  on  to  the  Del 
Norte',  by  striking  a  branch  of  the  Paloma  or  some  other 
lateral  stream.  Such  were  my  plans,  undefined  as  I  rode 
forth. 

I  knew  that  I  should  be  pursued  almost  to  the  gates  of 
El  Paso ;  and,  when  I  had  ridden  forward  about  a  mile,  a 
glance  to  the  rear  showed  me  that  the  Indians  had  just 
reached  the  plain,  and  were  striking  out  after  me. 

It  was  no  longer  a  question  of  speed.  I  knew  that  I  had 
the  heels  of  their  whole  cavalcade.  Did  my  horse  possess 
the  "  bottom  "  ? 

I  knew  the  tireless,  wiry  nature  of  the   Spanish  mustang ; 
and  their  animals  were  of  that  race.     I  knew  they  could  gal- 
lop for  a  long  day  without  breaking  down,  and  this  led  me  to 
fear  for  the  result. 
*32 


AN  UNEXPECTED  RENCONTRE.      433 

Speed  was  nothing  now,  and  I  made  no  attempt  to  keep  it 
up.  I  was  determined  to  economize  the  strength  of  my  steed. 
I  could  not  be  overtaken  so  long  as  he  lasted  ;  and  I  galloped 
slowly  forward,  watching  the  movements  of  my  pursuers  and 
keeping  a  regular  distance  ahead  of  them. 

At  times  I  dismounted  to  relieve  my  horse,  and  ran  along- 
side of  him.  My  dog  followed,  occasionally  looking  up  in 
my  face,  and  seemingly  conscious  why  I  was  making  such  a 
hurried  journey. 

During  all  the  day  I  was  never  out  of  sight  of  the  Indians-" 
in  fact,  I  could  have  distinguished  their  arms  and  counted 
their  numbers  at  any  time.  There  were  in  all  about  a  score 
of  horsemen.  The  stragglers  had  gone  back,  and  only  the 
well-mounted  men  now  continued  the  pursuit. 

As  I  neared  the  foot  of  the  snowy  peak,  I  remembered 
there  was  water  at  our  old  camping-ground  in  the  pass  ;  and 
I  pushed  my  horse  faster,  in  order  to  gain  time  to  refresh 
both  him  and  myself.  I  intended  to  make  a  short  halt,  and 
allow  the  noble  brute  to  breathe  himself  and  snatch  a  bite  of 
the  bunch-grass  that  grew  around  the  spring.  There  was 
nothing  to  fear  so  long  as  his  strength  held  out,  and  I  knew 
that  this  was  the  plan  to  sustain  it. 

It  was  near  sundown  as  I  entered  the  defile.  Before  rid- 
ing in  among  the  rocks  I  looked  back.  During  the  last  hour 
I  had  gained  upon  my  pursuers.  They  were  still  at  least 
three  miles  out  upon  the  plain,  and  I  saw  that  they  were  toil- 
ing on  wearily. 

I  fell  into  a  train  of  reflection  as  I  rode  down  the  ravine. 
I  was  now  upon  a  known  trail.  My  spirits  rose  ;  my  hopes, 
so  long  clouded  over,  began  to  assume  a  brightness  and 
buoyancy,  greater  from  the  very  influence  of  reaction.  I 
should  still  be  able  to  rescue  my  betrothed.  My  whole  ener- 
gies, my  fortune,  my  life,  would  be  devoted  to  this  one  object. 
I  would  raise  a  band  stronger  than  ever  Seguin  had  com- 
38 


434  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

manded.  I  should  get  followers  among  the  returning  em- 
ployes of  the  caravan ;  teamsters  whose  term  of  service  had 
expired.  I  would  search  the  posts  and  mountain  rendezvous 
for  trappers  and  hunters.  I  would  apply  to  the  Mexican 
government  for  aid,  in  money — in  troops.  I  would  appeal 
to  the  citizens  of  El  Paso,  of  Chihuahua,  of  Durango. 

"  Gee-hosaphat !  Hyur's  a  fellur  ridin'  ithout  eyther  sad- 
dle or  bridle !  " 

Five  or  six  men  with  rifles  sprang  out  from  the  rocks,  sur- 
rounding me. 

"  May  an  Injun  eat  me  ef  'tain't  the  young  fellur  as  tuk  me 
for  a  grizzly  !  Billie !  look  hyur  !  hyur  he  is  !  the  very  fellur  1 
He!  he!  he!     Ho  !  ho!  ho  !  " 

"  Rube  !     Garey  !  " 

"  What !  By  Jove,  it's  my  friend  Haller  !  Hurrah  !  Old 
fellow,  don't  you  know  me  ?  " 

"  St.  Vrain  !  " 

"  That  it  is.  Don't  I  look  like  him  ?  It  would  have  been 
a  harder  task  to  identify  you  but  for  what  the  old  trapper  has. 
been  telling  us  about  you.  But  come  !  how  have  you  got 
out  of  the  hands  of  the  Philistines  ?  " 

"  First  tell  me  who  you  all  are.  What  are  you  doing 
here  ? " 

" Oh,  we're  a  picket?     The  army  is  below." 

"  The  army  ?  " 

"  Why,  we  call  it  so.  There's  six  hundred  of  us  ;  and  that's 
about  as  big  an  army  as  usually  travels  in  these  parts." 

"  But  who  ?     What  are  they  ?  " 

"  They  are  of  all  sorts  and  colors.  There's  the  Chihua- 
huenos  and  Passenos,  and  niggurs,  and  hunters,  and  trappers, 
and  teamsters.  Your  humble  servant  commands  these  last- 
named  gentry.  And  then  there's  the  band  of  your  friend 
Seguin " 

"Seguin!     Is  he ?" 


AN    UNEXPECTED    RENCONTRE. 


435 


"  What  ?  He's  at  the  head  of  all.  But  come  !  they're 
camped  down  by  the  spring.  Let  us  go  down.  You  don't 
look  overfed  ;  and,  old  fellow,  there's  a  drop  of  the  best  Paso 
in  my  saddle-bags.     Come  !  " 

"  Stop  a  moment !     I  am  pursued." 


A  War  Dance  Among  the  Apache  Indians. 

"  Pursued  !  "  echoed  the  hunters,  simultaneously  raising 
rifles,  and  looking  up  the  ravine. 
"  How  many  ?  " 
"  About  twenty." 
"Are  they  close  upon  you  ?  " 
"  No." 
"  How  long  before  we  may  expect  them  ? " 


43 6  THE   SCALP- HUNTERS. 

"  They  are  three  miles  back,  with  tired  horses  as  you  may 
suppose." 

"  Three-quarters ;  half  an  hour  at  any  rate.  Come !  we'lL 
have  time  to  go  down  and  make  arrangements  for  their  recep- 
tion. Rube  I  you  with  the  rest  can  remain  here.  We  shall 
join  you  before  they  get  forward.     Come,  Haller  ! — come  !  " 

Following  my  faithful  and  warm-hearted  friend,  I  rode  on 
to  the  spring.  Around  it  I  found  "  the  army  "  ;  and  it  had 
somewhat  of  that  appearance,  for  two  or  three  hundred  of 
the  men  were  in  uniform.  These  were  the  volunteer  guards 
of  Chihuahua  and  El  Paso. 

The  late  "  raid"  of  the  Indians  had  exasperated  the  in- 
habitants, and  this  unusually  strong  muster  was  the  conse- 
quence. Seguin,  with  the  remnant  of  his  band,  had  met  them 
at  El  Paso,  and  hurried  them  forward  on  the  Navajo  trail. 
It  was  from  him  St.  Vrain  had  heard  of  my  capture  ;  and  in 
hopes  of  rescuing  me  had  joined  the  expedition  with  about 
forty  or  fifty  employes  of  the  caravan. 

Most  of  Seguin's  band  had  escaped  after  the  fight  in  the 
barranca,  and  among  the  rest,  I  was  rejoiced  to  hear,  El  Sol 
and  La  Luna.  They  were  now  on  their  return  with  Seguin, 
and  I  found  them  at  his  tent. 

Seguin  welcomed  me  as  the  bearer  of  joyful  news.  They 
were  still  safe.  That  was  all  I  could  tell  him,  and  all  he 
asked  for,  during  our  hurried  congratulation. 

We  had  no  time  for  idle  talk.  A  hundred  men  immediately 
mounted  and  rode  up  the  ravine.  On  reaching  the  ground 
occupied  by  the  picket,  they  led  their  horses  behind  the  rocks, 
and  formed  an  ambuscade.  The  order  was,  that  all  the 
Indians  must  be  killed  or  taken. 

The  plan  hastily  agreed  upon  was,  to  let  them  pass  the 
ambushed  men,  and  ride  on  until  they  had  got  in  sight  of 
the  main  body ;  then  both  divisions  were  to  close  upon  them. 

It  was  a  dry  ravine  above  the  spring,  and  the  horses  had 


AN    UNEXPECTED    RENCONTRE.  437 

made  no  tracks  upon  its  rocky  bed.  Moreover,  the  Indians, 
ardent  in  their  pursuit  of  me,  would  not  be  on  the  look-out 
for  any  "  sign  "  before  reaching  the  water.  Should  they 
pass  the  ambuscade,  then  not  a  man  of  them  would  escape, 
as  the  defile  on  both  sides  was  walled  in  by  a  precipice. 

After  the  others  had  gone,  about  a  hundred  men  at  the 
spring  leaped  into  their  saddles,  and  sat  with  their  eyes  bent 
up  the  pass. 

They  were  not  long  kept  waiting.  A  few  minutes  after 
the  ambuscade  had  been  placed,  an  Indian  showed  himself 
round  an  angle  of  the  rock,  about  two  hundred  yards  above 
the  spring.  He  was  the  foremost  of  the  warriors,  and  must 
have  passed  the  ambushed  horsemen  ;  but  as  yet  the  latter 
lay  still.  Seeing  a  body  of  men,  the  savage  halted  with  a 
quick  jerk  ;  and  then,  uttering  a  cry,  wheeled  and  rode  back 
upon  his  comrades.  These,  imitating  his  example,  wheeled 
also  ;  but  before  they  had  fairly  turned  themselves  in  the 
ravine,  the  cached  horsemen  sprang  out  in  a  body  from  the 
rocks  and  came  galloping  down. 

The  Indians,  now,  seeing  that  they  were  competely  in  the 
trap,  with  overpowering  numbers  on  both  sides  of  them, 
threw  down  their  spears  and  begged  for  mercy. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  all  captured.  The  whole 
affair  did  not  occupy  half  an  hour ;  and,  with  our  prisoners 
securely  tied,  we  returned  to  the  spring. 

The  leading  men  now  gathered  around  Seguin  to  settle 
on  some  plan  for  attacking  the  town.  Should  we  move  on 
to  it  that  night  ? 

I  was  asked  for  my  advice,  and  of  course  answered  "  Yes; 
the  sooner  the  better,  for  the  safety  of  the  captives." 

My  feelings,  as  well  as  those  of  Seguin,  could  not  brook 
delay.  Besides,  several  of  our  late  comrades  were  to  die  on 
the  morrow.     We  might  still  be  in  time  to  save  them. 

How  were  we  to  approach  the  valley  ? 


438  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

This  was  the  next  point  to  be  discussed. 

The  enemy  would  now  be  certain  to  have  their  videttes  at 
both  ends,  and  it  promised  to  be  clear  moonlight  until  morn- 
ing. They  could  easily  see  such  a  large  body  approaching 
from  the  open  plain.     Here  then  was  a  difficulty. 

"  Let  us  divide,"  said  one  of  Seguin's  old  band ;  "  let  a 
party  go  in  at  each  end.     That'll  git  'em  in  the  trap." 

"  Wagh  !  "  replied  another,  "  that  would  never  do.  Thar's 
ten  miles  o'  rough  wood  thar.  If  we  raised  the  niggurs  by 
such  a  show  as  this,  they'd  take  to  them,  gals  and  all,  an' 
that's  the  last  we'd  see  o'  them." 

This  speaker  was  clearly  in  the  right.  It  would  never  do 
to  make  our  attack  openly.     Stratagem  must  again  be  used. 

A  head  was  now  called  into  the  council  that  soon  mastered 
the  difficulty,  as  it  had  many  another.  That  was  the  skin- 
less, earless  head  of  the  trapper  Rube. 

"  Cap,"  said  he,  after  a  short  delay,  "  'ee  needn't  show 
yur  crowd  till  we've  first  took  the  luk-outs  by  the  eend  o' 
the  kenyun." 

"  How  can  we  take  them  ?  "  inquired  Seguin. 

"  Strip  them  twenty  niggurs,"  replied  Rube,  pointing  to 
our  captives,  "  an'  let  twenty  o'  us  put  on  their  duds.  Then 
we  kin  take  the  young  fellur — him  hyur  as  tuk  me  for  the 
grizzly !  He  !  he  !  he  !  Ole  Rube  tuk  for  a  grizzly !  We 
kin  take  him  back  a  pris'ner.     Now,  cap,  do  'ee  see  how  ?  " 

"  You  would  have  these  twenty  to  keep  far  in  the  advance 
then,  capture  the  videttes,  and  wait  till  the  main  body  comes 
up?" 

"  Sartinly ;  thet's  my  idee  adzactly." 

"  It  is  the  best,  the  only  one.  We  shall  follow  it."  And 
Seguin  immediately  ordered  the  Indians  to  be  stripped  of 
their  dresses.  These  consisted  mostly  of  garments  that  had 
been  plundered  from  the  people  of  the  Mexican  towns,  and 
were  of  all  cuts  and  colors. 


AN  UNEXPECTED  RENCONTRE.      439 

"  I'd  recommend  'ee,  cap,"  suggested  Rube,  seeing  that 
Seguin  was  looking  out  to  choose  the  men  for  this  advance 
party;  "  I'd  recommend  'ee  to  take  a  smart  sprinklin'  o'  the 
Delawars.  Them  Navaghs  is  mighty  'cute,  and  not  easily 
bamfoozled.  They  mout  sight  white  skin  by  moonlight. 
Them  o'  us  that  must  go  along  '11  have  to  paint  Injun,  or 
we'll  be  fooled  arter  all ;  we  will." 

Seguin,  taking  this  hint,  selected  for  the  advance  most  of 
the  Delaware  and  Shawano  Indians ;  and  these  were  now 
dressed  in  the  clothes  of  the  Navajoes.  He  himself,  with 
Rube,  Garey,  and  a  few  other  whites,  made  up  the  required 
number.  I,  of  course,  was  to  go  along  and  play  the  role  of 
a  prisoner. 

The  whites  of  the  party  soon  accomplished  their  change 
of  dress,  and  "  painted  Injun  "  :  a  trick  of  the  prairie  toilet 
well  known  to  all  of  them. 

Rube  had  but  little  change  to  make.  His  hue  was  already 
of  sufficient  deepness  for  the  disguise,  and  he  was  not  going 
to  trouble  himself  by  throwing  off  the  old  shirt  or  leggings. 
That  could  hardly  have  been  done  without  cutting  both  open, 
and  Rube  was  not  likely  to  make  such  a  sacrifice  of  his 
favorite  buckskins.  He  proceeded  to  draw  the  other  gar- 
ments over  them,  and  in  a  short  time  was  habited  in  a  pair 
of  slashing  calzoneros,  with  bright  buttons  from  the  hip  to 
the  ankle.  These,  with  a  smart,  tight-fitting  jacket  that  had 
fallen  to  his  share,  and  a  jaunty  sombrero  cocked  upon  his 
head,  gave  him  the  air  of  a  most  comical  dandy.  The  men 
fairly  yelled  at  seeing  him  thus  metamorphosed,  and  old 
Rube  himself  grinned  heartily  at  the  odd  feelings  which  the 
dress  occasioned  him. 

Before  the  sun  had  set,  everything  was  in  readiness,  and 
the  advance  started  off.  The  main  body,  under  St.  Vrain, 
was  to  follow  an  hour  after.  A  few  men,  Mexicans,  re- 
mained by  the  spring,  in  charge  of  the  Navajo  prisoners. 


CHAPTER  LV, 


THE  RESCUE. 


E  struck  directly  across  the  plain  for  the 
eastern    entrance  of   the  valley.     We 
reached   the  canon  about  two  hours 
before  day.     Everything  turned  out  as 
we  had  anticipated.     There  was  an 
outpost  of  five  Indians  at  the  end  of 
the  pass,  but  we  had  stolen  upon  them 
unawares,    and    they    were   captured 
without  the  necessity  of  our  firing  a  shot. 
The  main  body  came  up  soon  after,  and,  preceded  by  our 
party  as  before,  passed  through  the  canon.     Arriving  at  the 
border  of  the  woods  nearest  the  town,  we  halted,  and  con- 
cealed ourselves  among  the  trees. 

The  town  was  glistening  in  the  clear  moonlight,  and  deep 
silence  was  over  the  valley.  There  were  none  stirring  at  so 
early  an  hour,  but  we  could  descry  two  or  three  dark  objects 
down  by  the  river.  We  knew  them  to  be  the  sentinels  that 
stood  over  our  captive  comrades.  The  sight  was  gratifying, 
for  it  told  us  they  still  lived.  They  little  dreamed,  poor 
fellows  !  how  near  was  the  hour  of  their  deliverance.  For 
the  same  reasons  that  had  influenced  us  on  a  former  occasion, 
the  attack  was  not  to  be  made  until  daybreak ;  and  we  waited 
440 


THE    RESCUE.  441 

as  before,  but  with  a  very  different  prospect.  There  were  now 
six  hundred  warriors  in  the  town — about  our  own  number  ; 
and  we  knew  that  a  desperate  engagement  was  before  us. 
We  had  no  fear  as  to  the  result ;  but  we  feared  that  the 
vengeful  savages  might  take  it  into  their  heads  to  despatch 
their  captives  while  we  fought.  They  knew  that  to  recover 
these  was  our  main  object,  and,  if  themselves  defeated,  that 
would  give  them  the  satisfaction  of  a  terrible  vengeance. 

All  this  we  knew  was  far  from  improbable ;  but  to  guard 
against  the  possibility  of  such  an  event,  every  precaution  was 
to  be  taken. 

We  were  satisfied  that  the  captive  women  were  still  in  the 
temple.  Rube  assured  us  that  it  was  their  universal  custom 
to  keep  new  prisoners  there  for  several  days  after  their  ar- 
rival, until  they  were  finally  distributed  among  the  warriors. 
The  queen,  too,  dwelt  in  this  building. 

It  was  resolved,  then,  that  the  disguised  party  should  ride 
forward,  conducting  me,  as  their  prisoner,  by  the  first  light ; 
and  that  they  should  surround  the  temple,  and  by  a  clever 
coup  secure  the  white  captives.  A  signal  then  given  on  the 
bugle,  or  the  first  shot  fired,  was  to  bring  the  main  body 
forward  at  a  gallop. 

This  was  plainly  the  best  plan,  and  having  fully  arranged 
its  details,  we  waited  the  approach  of  the  dawn. 

It  was  not  long  in  coming.  The  moonlight  became  mixed 
with  the  faint  rays  of  the  aurora,  and  objects  were  seen 
more  distinctly.  As  the  milky  quartz  caught  the  hues  of 
morning,  we  rode  out  of  our  cover,  and  forward  over  the 
plain.  I  was  apparently  tied  upon  my  horse,  and  guarded 
between  two  of  the  Delawares. 

On  approaching  the  town  we  saw  several  men  upon  the 
roofs.  They  ran  to  and  fro,  summoning  others  out,  and 
targe  groups  began  to  appear  along  the  terraces.  As  we 
came  nearer  we  were  greeted  with  shouts  of  congratulation, 


442  THE   SCALP- HUNTERS. 

Avoiding  the  streets,  we  pushed  directly  for  the  temple,  at 
a  brisk  trot.  On  arriving  at  its  base  we  suddenly  halted, 
flung  ourselves  from  our  horses,  and  climbed  the  ladders. 
There  were  many  women  upon  the  parapets  of  the  building. 
Among  these  Seguin  recognized  his  daughter,  the  queen. 
She  was  at  once  secured  and  forced  into  the  inside.  The 
next  moment  I  held  my  betrothed  in  my  arms,  while  her 
mother  was  by  our  side.  The  other  captives  were  there ; 
and,  without  waiting  to  offer  any  explanation,  we  hurried 
them  all  within  the  rooms,  and  guarded  the  doors  with  our 
pistols. 

The  whole  maneuver  had  not  occupied  two  minutes  ;  but 
before  its  completion  a  wild  cry  announced  that  the  ruse 
was  detected.  Vengeful  yells  rang  over  the  town  ;  and  the 
warriors,  leaping  down  from  their  houses,  ran  towards  the 
temple. 

Arrows  began  to  hurtle  around  us ;  but  above  all  other 
sounds  pealed  the  notes  of  the  bugle,  summoning  our  com- 
rades to  the  attack. 

Quick  upon  the  signal  they  were  seen  debouching  from 
the  woods  and  coming  down  at  a  gallop. 

When  within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  houses,  the  charg- 
ing horsemen  divided  into  two  columns,  and  wheeled  round 
the  town,  with  the  intention  of  attacking  it  on  both  sides. 

The  Indians  hastened  to  defend  the  skirts  of  the  village ; 
but  in  spite  of  their  arrow-flights,  which  dismounted  several, 
the  horsemen  closed  in,  and,  flinging  themselves  from  their 
horses,  fought  hand  to  hand  among  the  walls.  The  shouts 
of  defiance,  the  sharp  ringing  of  rifles,  and  the  louder  re- 
ports of  the  escopettes,  soon  announced  that  the  battle  had 
fairly  begun. 

A  large  party,  headed  by  El  Sol  and  St.  Vrain,  had  ridden 
up  to  the  temple.  Seeing  that  we  had  secured  the  captives, 
these  too  dismounted,  and  commenced  an  attack  upon  that 


THE    RESCUE.  443 

part  of  the  town ;  clambering  up  to  the  houses,  and  driving 
out  the  braves  who  defended  them. 

The  fight  now  became  general.  Shouts  and  sounds  of 
shots  rent  the  air.  Men  were  seen  upon  high  roofs,  face  to 
face  in  deadly  and  desperate  conflict.  Crowds  of  women, 
screaming  and  terrified,  rushed  along  the  terraces,  or  ran  out 
upon  the  plain,  making  for  the  woods.  Frightened  horses, 
snorting  and  neighing,  galloped  through  the  streets,  and  off 
over  the  open  prairie,  with  trailing  bridles  ;  while  others, 
enclosed  in  corrals,  plunged  and  broke  over  the  walls.  It 
was  a  wild  scene — a  terrific  picture  ! 

Through  all,  I  was  only  a  spectator.  I  was  guarding  a 
door  of  the  temple  in  which  were  our  own  friends.  My 
elevated  position  gave  me  a  view  of  the  whole  village,  and  I 
could  trace  the  progress  of  the  battle  from  house  to  house. 
I  saw  that  many  were  falling  on  both  sides,  for  the  savages 
fought  with  the  courage  of  despair.  I  had  no  fears  for  the 
result.  The  whites,  too,  had  wrongs  to  redress,  and  by  the 
remembrance  of  these  were  equally  nerved  for  the  struggle. 
In  this  kind  of  encounter  they  had  the  advantage  in  arms. 
It  was  only  on  the  plains  that  their  savage  foes  were  feared, 
when  charging  with  their  long  and  death-dealing  lances. 

As  I  continued  to  gaze  over  the  azoteas  a  terrific  scene 
riveted  my  attention,  and  I  forgot  all  others.  Upon  a  high 
roof  two  men  were  engaged  in  combat  fierce  and  deadly. 
Their  brilliant  dresses  had  attracted  me,  and  I  soon  rec- 
ognized the  combatants.  They  were  Dacoma  and  the 
Maricopa  ! 

The  Navajo  fought  with  a  spear,  and  I  saw  that  the  other 
held  his  rifle  clubbed  and  empty. 

When  my  eye  first  rested  upon  them,  the  latter  had  just 
parried  a  thrust,  and  was  aiming  a  blow  at  his  antagonist. 
It  fell  without  effect ;  and  Dacoma,  turning  quickly,  brought 
his  lance  again  to  the  charge.     Before  El  Sol  could  ward  it 


444  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

off,  the  thrust  was  given,  and  the  weapon  appeared  to  pass 
through  his  body  1 

I  involuntarily  uttered  a  cry,  as  I  expected  to  see  the 
noble  Indian  fall.  What  was  my  astonishment  at  seeing 
him  brandish  his  tomahawk  over  his  head,  charge  with  the 
spear,  and  with  a  crashing  blow  stretch  the  Navajo  at  his 
feet! 

Drawn  down  by  the  impaling  shaft,  he  fell  over  the  body, 
but  in  a  moment  struggled  up  again,  drew  the  long  lance 
from  his  flesh,  and,  tottering  forward  to  the  parapet,  shouted 
out — 

"  Here,  Luna  !      Our  mother  is  avenged  !" 

I  saw  the  girl  spring  upon  the  roof,  followed  by  Garey  ; 
and  the  next  moment  the  wounded  man  sank  fainting  in  the 
arms  of  the  trapper. 

Rube,  St.  Vrain,  and  several  others  now  climbed  to  the 
roof,  and  commenced  examining  the  wound.  I  watched 
them  with  feelings  of  painful  suspense,  for  the  character  of 
this  most  singular  man  had  inspired  me  with  friendship. 
Presently  St.  Vrain  joined  me,  and  I  was  assured  that  the 
wound  was  not  mortal.     The  Maricopa  would  live. 

The  battle  was  now  ended.  The  warriors  who  survived 
had  fled  to  the  forest.  Shots  were  heard  only  at  intervals  ; 
an  occasional  shout,  the  shriek  of  some  savage  discovered 
lurking  among  the  walls. 

Many  white  captives  had  been  found  in  the  town,  and 
were  brought  in  front  of  the  temple,  guarded  by  the  Mexi- 
cans. The  Indian  women  had  escaped  to  the  woods  during 
the  engagement.  It  was  well ;  for  the  hunters  and  volunteer 
soldiery,  exasperated  by  wounds  and  heated  by  the  conflict, 
now  raged  around  like  furies.  Smoke  ascended  from  many 
of  the  houses  ;  flames  followed  ;  and  the  greater  part  of  the 
town  was  soon  reduced  to  a  smoldering  ruin. 

We  stayed  all  that  day  by  the  Navajo  village,  to  recruit 


THE   RESCUE.  445 

our  animals  and  prepare  for  our  homeward  journey  across 
the  desert.  The  plundered  cattle  were  collected.  Some 
were  slaughtered  for  immediate  use,  and  the  rest  placed  in 
charge  of  vaqueros,  to  be  driven  on  the  hoof.  Most  of  the 
Indian  horses  were  lassoed  and  brought  in,  some  to  be 
ridden  by  the  rescued  captives,  others  as  the  booty  of  the 
conquerors.  But  it  was  not  safe  to  remain  long  in  the  valley. 
There  were  other  tribes  of  the  Navajoes  to  the  north,  who 
would  soon  be  down  upon  us.  There  were  their  allies  :  the 
great  nations  of  the  Apache  to  the  south,  and  the  Nijoras  to 
the  west ;  and  we  knew  that  all  these  would  unite  and  follow 
on  our  trail.  The  object  of  the  expedition  was  attained,  at 
least  as  far  as  its  leader  had  designed  it.  A  great  number 
of  captives  were  recovered,  whose  friends  had  long  since 
mourned  them  as  lost  forever.  It  would  be  some  time  be- 
fore they  would  renew  those  savage  forays  in  which  they  had 
annually  desolated  the  pueblos  of  the  frontier. 

By  sunrise  of  the  next  day  we  had  repassed  the  canon, 
and  were  riding  towards  the  snowy  mountain. 


CHAPTER  LVI. 


EL    PASO    DEL    NORTE. 


WILL  not  describe  the 
recrossing  of  the  desert 
plains,  nor  will  I  detail 
the  incidents  of  our 
homeward  journey. 

With  all  its  hardships  and 
weariness,  to  me  it  was  a  pleas- 
ant one.  It  is  a  pleasure  to 
attend  upon  her  we  love,  and  that  along  the  route  was  my 
chief  duty.  The  smiles  I  received  far  more  than  repaid  me 
for  the  labor  I  underwent  in  its  discharge.  But  it  was  not 
labor.  It  was  no  labor  to  fill  her  xuages  with  fresh  water 
at  every  spring  or  runlet,  to  spread  the  blanket  softly  over 
her  saddle,  to  weave  her  a  "  quitasol "  out  of  the  broad 
leaves  of  the  palmilla,  to  assist  her  in  mounting  and  dis- 
mounting.    No  ;  that  was  not  labor  to  me. 

We  were  happy  as  we  journeyed.  I  was  happy,  for  I 
knew  that  I  had  fulfilled  my  contract  and  won  my  bride  ;  and 
the  very  remembrance  of  the  perils  through  which  we  had 
so  lately  passed  heightened  the  happiness  of  both.  But  one 
thing  cast  an  occasional  gloom  over  our  thoughts  :  the  queen 
— Adele. 

She  was  returning  to  the  home   of  her  childhood;  not 
446 


EL   PASO    DEL    NORTE.  447 

voluntarily,  but  as  a  captive  ;  captive  to  her  own  kindred, 
her  father  and  mother  ! 

Throughout  the  journey,  both  these  waited  upon  her  with 
tender  assiduity,  almost  constantly  gazing  at  her  with  sad 
and  silent  looks.     There  was  woe  in  their  hearts. 

We  were  not  pursued  ;  or,  if  so,  our  pursuers  never  came 
up.  Perhaps  we  were  not  followed  at  all.  The  foe  had 
been  crippled  and  cowed  by  the  terrible  chastisement,  and 
we  knew  it  would  be  some  time  before  they  could  muster 
force  enough  to  take  our  trail.  Still  we  lost  not  a  moment, 
but  traveled  as  fast  as  the  ganados  could  be  pushed  for- 
ward. 

In  five  days  Ave  reached  the  Barranca  del  Oro,  and 
passed  the  old  mine,  the  scene  of  our  bloody  conflict.  Dur- 
ing our  halt  among  the  ruined  ranches,  I  strayed  away  from  the 
rest,  impelled  by  a  painful  curiosity  to  see  if  aught  remained 
of  my  late  follower  or  his  fellow-victim.  I  went  to  the  spot 
where  I  had  last  seen  their  bodies.  Yes  :  two  skeletons  lay 
in  front  of  the  shaft,  as  cleanly  picked  by  the  wolves  as  if 
they  had  been  dressed  for  the  studio  of  an  anatomist.  It 
was  all  that  remained  of  the  unfortunate  men. 

After  leaving  the  Barranca  del  Oro,  we  struck  the  head 
waters  of  the  Rio  Mimbres ;  and,  keeping  on  the  banks  of 
that  stream,  followed  it  down  to  the  Del  Norte'.  Next  day 
we  entered  the  pueblo  of  El  Paso. 

A  scene  of  singular  interest  greeted  us  on  our  arrival.  As 
we  neared  the  town,  the  whole  population  flocked  out  to 
meet  us.  Some  had  come  forth  from  curiosity,  some  to 
welcome  us  and  take  part  in  the  ceremony  that  hailed  our 
triumphant  return,  but  not  a  few  impelled  by  far  different 
motives.  We  had  brought  with  us  a  large  number  of  rescued 
captives — nearly  fifty  in  all — and  these  were  soon  surrounded 
by  a  crowd  of  citizens.  In  that  crowd  were  yearning  mothers 
and  fond  sisters,  lovers  newly  awakened  from  despair,  and 


448  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

husbands  who  had  not  yet  ceased  to  mourn.  There  were 
hurried  inquiries,  and  quick  glances,  that  betokened  keen 
anxiety.  There  were  "  scenes  "  and  shouts  of  joy,  as  each 
one  recognized  some  long-lost  object  of  a  dear  affection. 
But  there  were  other  scenes  of  a  diverse  character :  scenes 
of  woe  and  wailing ;  for  of  many  of  those  who  had  gone 


A  Serenade  at  El  Paso. 

forth,  but  a  few  days  before,  in  the  pride  of  health  and  the 
panoply  of  war,  many  came  not  back. 

I  was  particularly  struck  with  one  episode — a  painful  one 
to  witness.  Two  women  of  the  poblana  class  had  laid  hold 
upon  one  of  the  captives :  a  girl  of,  I  should  think,  about 
ten  years  of  age.  Each  claimed  the  girl  for  her  daughter, 
and  each  of  them  held  one  of  her  arms,  not  rudely,  but  t<? 


EL   PASO    DEL   NORTE.  449 

hinder  the  other  from  carrying  her  off.  A  crowd  had  en- 
circled them,  and  both  the  women  were  urging  their  claims 
in  loud  and  plaintive  voice. 

One  stated  the  age  of  the  girl,  hastily  narrated  the  history 
of  her  capture  by  the  savages,  and  pointed  to  certain  marks 
upon  her  person,  to  which  she  declared  she  was  ready  at 
any  moment  to  made  "  juramento."  The  other  appealed  to 
the  spectators  to  look  at  the  color  of  the  child's  hair  and 
eyes,  which  slightly  differed  from  that  of  the  other  claimant, 
and  called  upon  them  to  note  the  resemblance  she  bore  to 
another,  who  stood  by,  and  who,  she  alleged,  was  the  child's 
eldest  sister.  Both  talked  at  the  same  time,  and  kissed  the 
girl  repeatedly  as  they  talked. 

The  little  wild  captive  stood  between  the  two,  receiving 
their  alternate  embraces  with  a  wondering  and  puzzled  ex- 
pression. She  was,  in  truth,  a  most  interesting  child,  habit- 
ed in  the  Indian  costume,  and  browned  by  the  sun  of  the 
desert.  Whichever  might  have  been  the  mother,  it  was 
evident,  she  had  no  remembrance  of  either  of  them  ;  for 
here  there  was  no  mother  /  In  her  infancy  she  had  been  car- 
ried off  to  the  desert,  and,  like  the  daughter  of  Seguin,  had 
forgotten  the  scenes  of  her  childhood.  She  had  forgotten 
father — mother — all  1 

It  was,  as  I  have  said,  a  scene  painful  to  witness  :  the 
women's  looks  of  anguish,  their  passionate  appeals,  their 
wild  but  affectionate  embraces  lavished  upon  the  girl,  their 
plaintive  cries  mingled  with  sobs  and  weeping.  It  was  in- 
deed a  painful  scene. 

It  was  soon  brought  to  a  close,  at  least  as  far  as  I  wit- 
nessed it.  The  alcalde  came  upon  the  ground  ;  and  the 
girl  was  given  in  charge  to  the  "  policia,"  until  the  true 
mother  should  bring  forward  more  definite  proofs  of  mater- 
nity.    I  never  heard  the  finale  of  this  little  romance. 

The  return  of  the  expedition  to  El  Paso  was  celebrated 
29 


45o 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


by  a  triumphant  ovation.  Cannon  boomed,  bells  rang,  fire- 
works hissed  and  sputtered,  masses  were  sung,  and  music 
filled  the  streets.  Feasting  and  merriment  followed,  and  the 
night  was  turned  into  a  blazing  illumination  of  wax  candles, 
"  un  gran  funcion  de  balk  " — ^fandango. 

Next  morning,  Seguin,  with  his  wife  and  daughters,  made 


A  Dinner  Party  in  Mexico. 

preparations  to  journey  on  to  the  old  hacienda  on  the  Del 
Norte.  The  house  was  still  standing ;  so  we  had  heard. 
It  had  not  been  plundered.  The  savages,  on  taking  pos- 
session of  it,  had  been  closely  pressed  by  a  body  of  Pasenos, 
and  had  hurried  off  with  their  captives,  leaving  everything 
else  as  they  had  found  it. 

St.  Vrain  and  I  were  to  accompany  the  party  to  their 
home. 

The  chief  had  plans  for  the  future,  in  which  both  I  and 


EL    PASO    DEL   NORTE. 


451 


my  friend  were  interested.  There  we  were  to  mature 
them. 

I  found  the  returns  of  my  trading  speculation  even  greater 
than  St.  Vrain  had  promised.  My  ten  thousand  dollars  had 
been  trebled.  St.  Vrain,  too,  was  master  of  a  large 
amount  ;  and  we  were  enabled  to  bestow  our  bounty  on 
those  of  our  late  comrades  who  had  proved  themselves 
worthy. 

But  most  of  them  had  received  "  bounty  "  from  another 
source.  As  we  rode  out  from  El  Paso,  I  chancad  to  look 
back.  There  was  a  long  string  of  dark  objects  waving  over 
the  gates.  There  was  no  mistaking  what  they  were,  for 
they  were  unlike  anything  else.     They  were  scalps  J 


Brain  Corals  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 


CHAPTER    LVIL 


TOUCHING  THE  CHORDS  OF  MEMORY. 


T  is  the  second  evening  after  our  ar- 
rival at  the  old  house  on  the  Del  Norte. 
We  have  gone  up  to  the  azotda — 
Seguin,  St.  Vrain,  and  myself :  I  know 
not  why,  but  guided  thither  by  our  host.  Perhaps  he  wishes 
to  look  once  more  over  that  wild  land,  the  theater  of  so 
many  scenes  in  his  eventful  life  :  once  more,  for  upon  the 
morrow  he  leaves  it  forever.  Our  plans  have  been  formed ; 
we  journey  upon  the  morrow ;  we  are  going  over  the 
broad  plains  to  the  waters  of  the  Mississippi.  They  go 
with  us. 

It  is  a  lovely  evening,  and  warm.     The  atmosphere  is 

elastic  :  such   an  atmosphere  as  you  can  find  only  on  the 

high  tables  of  the  western  world.     It  seems  to  act  upon  all 

animated  nature,  judging  from  its  voices.     There  is  joy  in 

452 


TOUCHING  THE   CHORDS  OF   MEMORY.     453 

the  songs  of  the  birds,  in  the  humming  of  the  homeward 
bees.  There  is  a  softness,  too,  in  those  sounds  that  reach 
us  from  the  farther  forest  :  those  sounds  usually  harsh ;  the 
voices  of  the  wilder  and  fiercer  creatures  of  the  wilderness. 
All  seem  attuned  to  peace  and  love. 

The  song  of  the  arriero  is  joyous  ;  for  many  of  these  are 
below,  packing  for  our  departure. 

I  too  am  joyous.  I  have  been  so  for  days  ;  but  the  light 
atmosphere  around,  and  the  bright  prospect  before  me,  have 
heightened  the  pulsations  of  my  happiness. 

Not  so  my  companions  on  the  azotea.     Both  seem  sad. 

Seguin  is  silent.  I  thought  he  had  climbed  up  here  to 
take  a  last  look  of  the  fair  valley.  Not  so.  He  paces 
backward  and  forward  with  folded  arms,  his  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  cemented  roof.  They  see  no  farther  ;  they  see  not  at 
all.  The  eye  of  his  mind  only  is  active,  and  that  is  look- 
ing inward.  His  air  is  abstracted  ;  his  brow  is  clouded  ; 
his  thoughts  are  gloomy  and  painful.  I  know  the  cause  of 
all  this.     She  is  still  a  stranger  ! 

But  St.  Vrain — the  witty,  the  buoyant,  the  sparkling  St. 
Vrain — what  misfortune  has  befallen  him  ?  What  cloud  is 
crossing  the  rose-colored  field  of  his  horoscope  ?  what  rep- 
tile is  gnawing  at  his  heart,  that  not  even  the  sparkling 
wine  of  El  Paso  can  drown  ?  St.  Vrain  is  speechless  ;  St. 
Vrain  is  sighing ;  St.  Vrain  is  sad  1  I  half  divine  the  cause. 
St.  Vrain  is 

The  tread  of  light  feet  upon  the  stone  stairway — the 
rustling  of  female  dresses  ! 

They  are  ascending.  They  are  Madame  Seguin,  Adele, 
Zoe. 

I  look  at  the  mother — at  her  features.  They,  too,  are 
shaded  by  a  melancholy  expression.  Why  is  not  she  happy  ? 
Why  not  joyous,  having  recovered  a  long-lost,  much-loved 
child  ?     Ah  1  she  has  not  yet  recovered  her  I 


454       ■  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

I  turn  my  eyes  on  the  daughter — the  elder  one — the 
queen.     That  is  the  strangest  expression  of  all. 

Have  you  seen  the  captive  ocelot  ?  Have  you  seen  the 
wild  bird  that  refuses  to  be  tamed,  but  against  the  bars  of 
its  cage  prison  still  beats  its  bleeding  wings  ?  If  so,  it  may 
help  you  to  fancy  that  expression.     I  cannot  depict  it. 

She  is  no  longer  in  the  Indian  costume.  That  has  been 
put  aside.  She  wears  the  dress  of  civilized  life,  but  she 
wears  it  reluctantly.  She  has  shown  this,  for  the  skirt  is 
torn  in  several  places,  and  the  bodice,  plucked  open,  dis- 
plays her  bosom,  half  nude,  heaving  under  the  wild  thoughts 
which  agitate  it. 

She  accompanies  them,  but  not  as  a  companion.  She  has 
the  air  of  a  prisoner,  the  air  of  the  eagle  whose  wings  have 
been  clipped.  She  regards  neither  mother  nor  sister.  Their 
constant  kindness  has  failed  to  impress  her. 

The  mother  has  led  her  to  the  azotea,  and  let  go  her 
hand.  She  walks  no  longer  with  them,  but  crouching,  and 
in  starts,  from  place  to  place,  obedient  to  the  impulse  of 
strong  emotions. 

She  has  reached  the  western  wing  of  the  azotda,  and 
stands  close  up  against  the  parapet,  gazing  over — gazing 
upon  the  Mimbres.  She  knows  them  well,  those  peaks  of 
sparkling  selenite,  those  watch-towers  of  the  desert  land  : 
she  knows  them  well.     Her  heart  is  with  her  eyes. 

We  stand  watching  her,  all  of  us.  She  is  the  object  of 
common  solicitude.  She  it  is  who  keeps  between  all  hearts 
and  the  light.  The  father  looks  sadly  on  ;  the  mother 
looks  sadly  on  ;  Zoe  looks  sadly  on  ;  St.  Vrain  too.  No  1 
that  is  a  different  expression.     His  gaze  is  the  gaze  of 

She  has  turned  suddenly.  She  perceives  that  we  are  all 
regarding  her  with  attention.  Her  eyes  wander  from  one  to 
the  other.     They  are  fixed  upon  the  glance  of  St.  Vrain  ! 

A  change  comes  over  her  countenance — a  sudden  change, 


TOUCHING  THE   CHORDS   OF   MEMORY.     455 

from  dark  to  bright,  like  the  cloud  passing  from  the  sun. 
Her  eye  is  fired  by  a  new  expression.  I  know  it  well.  I 
have  seen  it  before  ;  not  in  her  eyes  but  in  those  that  re- 
semble them  :  the  eyes  of  her  sister.  I  know  it  well.  It  is 
the  light  of  love  I 

St.  Vrain  !  His  too  are  lit  by  a  similar  emotion  !  Happy 
St.  Vrain  !  Happy  that  it  is  mutual.  As  yet  he  knows  not 
that,  but  I  do.     I  could  bless  him  with  a  single  word. 

Moments  pass.  Their  eyes  mingle  in  fiery  communion. 
They  gaze  into  each  other.  Neither  can  avert  their  glance. 
A  god  rules  them  :  the  god  of  love  ! 

The  proud  and  energetic  attitude  of  the  girl  gradually  for- 
sakes her  ;  her  features  relax  ;  her  eye  swims  with  a  softer 
expression  ;  and  her  whole  bearing  seems  to  have  under- 
gone a  change. 

She  sinks  down  upon  a  bench.  She  leans  against  the 
parapet.  She  no  longer  turns  to  the  west.  She  no  longer 
gazes  upon  the  Mimbres.  Her  heart  is  no  longer  in  the 
desert  land 7 

No  ;  it  is  with  her  eyes,  and  these  rest  almost  contin- 
uously on  St.  Vrain.  They  wander  at  intervals  over  the 
stones  of  the  azotea  ;  then  her  thoughts  do  not  go  with  them  ; 
but  they  ever  return  to  the  same  object,  to  gaze  upon  it 
tenderly,  more  tenderly  at  each  new  glance. 

The  anguish  of  captivity  is  over.  She  no  longer  desires 
to  escape.  There  is  no  prison  where  he  dwells.  It  is  now 
a  paradise.  Henceforth  the  doors  may  be  thrown  freely 
open.  That  little  bird  will  make  no  further  effort  to  fly 
from  its  cage.     It  is  tamed. 

What  memory,  friendship,  entreaties,  had  failed  to  effect, 
love  had  accomplished  in  a  single  instant.  Love,  mysterious 
power,  in  one  pulsation  had  transformed  that  wild  heart  ; 
had  drawn  it  from  the  desert. 

I  fancied  that   Seguin  had  noticed  all  this,  for  he  was 


456  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

observing  her  movements  with  attention.  I  fancied  that 
such  thoughts  were  passing  in  his  mind,  and  that  they  were 
not  unpleasing  to  him,  for  he  looked  less  affected  than  be- 
fore. But  I  did  not  continue  to  watch  the  scene.  A  deeper 
interest  summoned  me  aside  ;  and,  obedient  to  the  sweet 
impulse,  I  strayed  towards  the  southern  angle  of  the 
azotea. 

I  was  not  alone.  My  betrothed  was  by  my  side ;  and  our 
hands,  like  our  hearts,  were  locked  in  each  other. 

There  was  no  secrecy  about  our  love :  with  Zoe  there 
never  had  been. 

Nature  had  prompted  the  passion.  She  knew  not  the 
conventionalities  of  the  world,  of  society,  of  circles  refined, 
soi-disant.  She  knew  not  that  love  was  a  passion  for  one  to 
be  ashamed  of. 

Hitherto  no  presence  had  restained  her  in  its  expression : 
not  even  that,  to  lovers  of  less  pure  design,  awe-inspiring 
above  all  others — the  presence  of  the  parents.  Alone  or  in 
their  company,  there  was  no  difference  in  her  conduct.  She 
knew  not  the  hypocrisies  of  artificial  natures ;  the  restraints, 
the  intrigues,  the  agonies  of  atoms  that  act.  She  knew  not 
the  terror  of  guilty  minds.  She  obeyed  only  the  impulse  her 
Creator  had  kindled  within  her. 

With  me  it  was  otherwise.  I  had  shouldered  society ; 
though  not  much  then,  enough  to  make  me  less  proud  of 
love's  purity  :  enough  to  render  me  slightly  skeptical  of  its 
sincerity.  But  through  her  I  had  now  escaped  from  that 
skepticism.  I  had  become  a  faithful  believer  in  the  nobility 
of  the  passion. 

Our  love  was  sanctioned  by  those  who  alone  possessed 
the  right  to  sanction  it.     It  was  sanctified  by  its  own  purity- 

We  are  gazing  upon  a  fair  scene ;  fairer  now,  at  the  sun- 
set hour.  The  sun  is  no  longer  upon  the  stream,  but  his 
rays  slant  through  the  foliage  of  the  cottonwood  trees  that 


TOUCHING  THE   CHORDS  OF   MEMORY.     457 

fringe  it,  and  here  and  there  a  yellow  beam  is  flung  trans- 
versely on  the  water.  The  forest  is  dappled  by  the  high 
tints  of  autumn.  There  are  green  leaves  and  red  ones  ; 
some  of  a  golden  color,  and  others  of  dark  maroon.  Under 
this  bright  mosaic  the  river  winds  away  like  a  giant  serpent, 
hiding  its  head  in  the  darker  woods  around  El  Paso. 

We  command  a  view  of  all  this,  for  we  are  above  the 
landscape.  We  see  the  brown  houses  of  the  village,  with 
the  shining  vane  of  its  church.  Our  eyes  have  often  rested 
upon  that  vane  in  happy  hours,  but  none  happier  than  now, 
for  our  hearts  are  full  of  happiness. 

We  talk  of  the  past  as  well  as  the  present ;  for  Zoe  has 
now  seen  something  of  life :  its  darker  pictures,  it  is  true ; 
but  these  are  often  the  most  pleasant  to  be  remembered ; 
and  her  desert  experience  has  furnished  her  with  many  a 
new  thought — the  cue  to  many  an  inquiry. 

The  future  becomes  the  subject  of  our  converse.  //  is  all 
bright,  though  a  long  and  even  perilous  journey  is  before  us. 
We  think  not  of  that.  We  look  beyond  it  to  that  promised 
hour  when  /am  to  teach,  and  she  to  learn,  '■'•what  is  to 
marry." 

Some  one  is  touching  the  strings  of  a  bandolin.  We  look 
around.  Madame  Seguin  is  seated  upon  a  bench,  holding 
the  instrument  in  her  hands.  She  is  tuning  it.  As  yet  she 
has  not  played.     There  has  been  no  music  since  our  return. 

It  is  by  Seguin's  request  that  the  instrument  has  been 
brought  up,  with  the  music,  to  chase  away  heavy  memories  ; 
or,  perhaps,  from  a  hope  that  it  may  soothe  those  savage 
ones  still  dwelling  in  the  bosom  of  his  child. 

Madame  Seguin  is  about  to  play,  and  my  companion  and 
I  go  nearer  to  listen. 

Seguin  and  St.  Vrain  are  conversing  apart.  Adele  is  still 
seated  where  we  left  her,  silent  and  abstracted. 

The  music  commences.     It  is  a  merry  air — a  fandango : 


458  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

one  of  those  to  which  the  Andalusian  foot  delights  to  keep 
time. 

Seguin  and  St.  Vrain  have  turned.  We  all  stand  look- 
ing in  the  face  of  Adele.  We  endeavor  to  read  its  ex- 
pression. 

The  first  notes  have  startled  her  from  her  attitude  of  ab- 
straction. Her  eyes  wander  from  one  to  the  other ;  from 
the  instrument  to  the  player,  with  looks  of  wonder — of 
inquiry. 

The  music  continues.  The  girl  has  risen,  and,  as  if 
mechanically,  approaches  the  bench  where  her  mother  is 
seated.  She  crouches  down  by  the  feet  of  the  latter,  places 
her  ear  close  up  to  the  instrument,  and  listens  attentively. 
There  is  a  singular  expression  upon  her  face. 

I  look  at  Seguin.  That  upon  his  is  not  less  singular. 
His  eyes  is  fixed  upon  the  girl's,  gazing  with  intensity.  His 
lips  are  apart,  yet  he  seems  not  to  breathe.  His  arms  hang 
neglected,  and  he  is  leaning  forward  as  if  to  read  the  thoughts 
that  are  passing  within  her. 

He  starts  erect  again,  as  though  under  the  impulse  of  some 
sudden  resolution. 

"  Oh,  Adele  !  Adele  !  "  he  cries,  hurriedly  addressing  his 
wife  ;  "  oh,  sing  that  song ;  that  sweet  hymn,  you  remember  ; 
you  used  to  sing  it  to  her — often,  often.  You  remember  it, 
Adele  !  Look  at  her.  Quick !  quick  !  Oh  Heavens  !  Per- 
haps she  may " 

He  is  interrupted  by  the  music.  The  mother  has  caught 
his  meaning,  and  with  the  adroitness  of  a  practised  player, 
suddenly  changes  the  tune  to  one  of  a  far  different  character. 
I  recognize  the  beautiful  Spanish  hymn,  "  La  madre  a  sic 
hija" (The  mother  to  her  child).  She  sings  it,  accompany- 
ing her  voice  with  the  bandolin.  She  throws  all  her  energy 
into  the  song,  until  the  strain  seems  inspired.  She  gives  the 
words  with  full  and  passionate  effect : — 


TOUCHING  THE   CHORDS   OF    MEMORY.     459 

"Tu  duermes,  cara  nina  ! 
Tu  duermes  en  la  paz. 

Los  angeles  del  cielo — 

Los  angeles  guardan,  guardan, 
Nina  mia  ! — Ca — ra  mi " 

The  song  was  interrupted  by  a  cry — a  cry  of  singular 
import — uttered  by  the  girl.  The  first  words  of  the  hymn 
had  caused  her  to  start,  and  then  to  listen,  if  possible,  more 
attentively  than  ever.  As  the  song  proceeded,  the  singular 
expression  we  had  noted  seemed  to  become  every  moment 
more  marked  and  intense.  When  the  voice  had  reached  the 
burden  of  the  melody,  a  strange  exclamation  escaped  her 
lips  ;  and,  springing  to  her  feet,  she  stood  gazing  wildly  in  the 
face  of  the  singer.  Only  for  a  moment.  The  next  moment, 
she  cried  in  loud  passionate  accents,  "  Mama  !  mama !  " 
and  fell  forward  upon  the  bosom  of  her  mother ! 

Seguin  spoke  truly  when  he  said,  "  Perhaps  in  God's  mercy 
she  may  yet  remember.'n  She  had  remembered — not  only  her 
mother,  but  in  a  short  time  she  remembered  him.  The 
chords  of  memory  had  been  touched,  its  gates  thrown  open. 
She  remembered  the  history  of  her  childhood.  She  remem- 
bered all  I 

I  will  not  essay  to  describe  the  scene  that  followed.  I 
will  not  attempt  to  picture  the  expression  of  the  actors  ;  to 
speak  of  their  joyous  exclamation,  mingled  with  sobs  and 
tears  ;  but  they  were  tears  of  joy. 

All  of  us  were  happy — happy  to  exultation  :  but  for 
Seguin  himself,  I  knew  it  was  the  hour  of  his  life. 


EXPLANATORY  NOTES. 


"  Corralled  wagons." — Page  20.]  It  is  usual  for  emigrants,  or  traders, 
who  cross  the  plains,  when  halting  for  the  night,  to  place  their  wagons 
so  as  to  form  with  them  a  hollow  square.  This  makes  a  ready  fortifi- 
cation against  Indian  attacks  ;  and  also  serves  as  an  enclosure  for  such 
of  their  animals  as  are  likely  to  stray.  The  word  "  corral  "  is  used  in 
such  cases.  It  is  the  Spanish  for  enclosure;  and  it  maybe  here  ob- 
served, that  as  the  Spaniards  were  the  first  Europeans  who  penetrated 
into  these  regions,  much  of  the  nomenclature  of  the  prairies — particu- 
larly the  southern  prairies — is  taken  from  their  language. 

"  The  Prairie-fever." — Page  22.]  A  phrase  used  to  distinguish  that 
longing  to  return  to  the  prairie  wilds,  experienced  by  those  who  have 
once  lived  upon  them.  It  is  not  unlike  the  feeling  which,  at  times,  is 
said  to  come  over  the  "  salt  ashore." 

"  Plum  Buttes." — Page  28.]  Butte — A  name  given  to  small  isolated 
mountains  that  rise  knoll-like  from  the  plain.  The  "  Plum  Buttes," 
near  the  "  Bend  "  of  the  river  Arkansas  are  celebrated  landmarks. 

"  Mountain  men?"* — Page  32.]  All  who  hunt,  trap,  or  trade  among 
the  Rocky  Mountains  and  their  "  parks  "  are  known  as  "  mountain 
men." 

"  Canotted." — Page  34.]  A  Spanish  phrase  adopted  into  western  par- 
lance ;  a  deep  cleft,  seemingly  cut  through  a  mountain  ridge,  with  a 
stream  running  in  its  bottom,  is  a  canon — pronounced  kenyon.  Canoned 
is  the  verb,  and  in  use  generally.  The  canon  is  a  formation  met  with 
over  all  the  surface  of  Spanish  America.  There  is  nothing  exactly 
similar  in  the  old  United  States'  territory.  It  is  a  feature  of  the  table- 
lands. 

"  Lariat." — Page  39.]  A  "  lariat  "  is  a  long  rope  of,  most  generally, 
twisted  raw  hide,  used  for  "  picketing "  a  horse,  and  other  purposes. 
The  lariat  or  laryette  is  nothing  more  than  a  "  lazo,"  or  "  lasso,"  in  the 

461 


462  THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 

use  of  which  the  prairie  Indians  and  all  Spanish  Americans  are  so  skilled. 
But  it  has  been  so  often  described,  it  would  be  superfluous  to  give  any 
account  of  it  here.  The  "  trail-rope  "  and  "  cabriesto  "  are  similar 
things. 

"  Goats." — Page  40.]  A  very  unpoetical  name  for  antelopes,  but  that 
by  which  the  trappers  choose  to  distinguish  them. 

"  Fontaine  qui  Bouille." — Page  44.]  The  name  of  a  celebrated  boil- 
ing spring  near  the  head  waters  of  the  Arkansas.  The  nomenclature 
of  prairie-land  is  nearly  one-half  French.  This  is  accounted  for  by  the 
proximity  of  the  French  settlements  at  St.  Louis  and  New  Orleans,  as 
well  as  the  fact  that  many  of  the  earliest  prairie  wanderers  were  of  that 
nation.  Canadian  Frenchmen  are  to  be  found  all  over  the  western 
countries,  and  their  traces  may  be  detected  in  the  progeny  of  almost 
every  Indian  tribe. 

"  Poblanas." — Page  50.]  The  "poblana"  is  the  Mexican  "maja,"  or 
fashionable  belle  of  the  lower  class.  Her  dress  is  exceedingly  pictur- 
esque, and  not  over  long  in  the  skirt. 

"  Sala."— Page  51.]  The  "  sala  "  of  a  Mexican  house  is  what  we 
would  term  the  drawing-room.  It  is  that  in  which  visitors  are  generally 
received,  and  not  the  apartment  kept  for  great  occasions  ;  any  large 
room,  such  as  a  ball-room,  is  termed  a  "  sala." 

"  Bandolin." — Page  51.]  The  "bandolin"  is  a  stringed  instrument 
very  much  like  a  guitar.  It  is  found  in  almost  every  Mexican  house, 
and  there  are  few  who  cannot  play  a  little  upon  it.  It  might  be  called 
a  "  cross  "  between  the  guitar  and  banjo,  as  it  partakes  of  the  character 
of  both  these  instruments. 

11  Pur os." — Page  51.]  "  Puros  "  are  simply  cigars  manufactured  in 
Mexico.  The  name  serves  to  distinguish  them  from  the  "  Cigarros  de 
papel,"  or  small  paper  Cigarettos.  The  latter,  however,  are  in  much 
more  general  use  among  all  classes  of  Mexicans,  high  or  low,  male  or 
female.  Havana  cigars  are  also  smoked,  but  to  no  great  extent. 
The  little  cartridge  of  paper  is  the  favorite.  There  is  also  another  kind 
in  limited  use,  the  "  Campeacheanos,"  or  husk  cigarettes — that  is,  those 
rolled  in  the  husk  of  the  maize  plant.  The  "  Mexican  puros,"  are 
smoked  extensively  in  London,  under  the  name  of  "  Pickwicks." 

"  Taos  whisky." — Page  51.]  Taos — San  Fernando  de  Taos — is  a 
Pueblo  settlement  in  New  Mexico,  far  north,  near  the  head  waters  of 
the  Del  Norte.  There  are  several  "  stills  "  at  work  here,  chiefly  man- 
aged by  retired  trappers. 


EXPLANATORY   NOTES.  463 

"  Aqwardent,  or  Vino." — Page  51.]  Aguardiente,  or  wine.  Aguar- 
dienteis  the  Mexican  name  for  strong  drinks.  Aguardiente — burning 
water.  It  is  generally  limited,  however,  to  the  whisky  distilled  from 
the  maize  and  mezcal  plants — the  latter  peculiar  to  Mexico. 

"  Pelad-)." — Page  57.]  "  Pelado  "  and  "lepero"  are  names  given  in 
contempt  to  the  lower  and  more  ragged  classes  of  a  Mexican  town. 
"  Pelado  "  means  a  very  naked  fellow.  A  "  lepero  "  is  not  a  leper  in 
the  scriptural  sense  of  the  word,  though  "  lepero  "  is  the  Spanish  for 
that  idea.  But  in  common  parlance  among  Spaniards  and  Spanish 
Americans,  "  leperos  "  are  what  among  us  are  known  as  the  "  rabble," 
or  rather  the  "  tag-rag  and  bob-tail." 

"  Hated  each  other." — Page  58.]  This  national  hatred  is  not  peculiar 
to  the  Saxon  and  Spanish  races  of  America.  It  is  found,  I  believe, 
along  the  boundary  frontier  of  every  country.     It  needs  no  explanation. 

"  Cache." — Page  63.]  The  term  in  use  upon  the  prairies,  signifying 
to  hide  anything.  Where  anything  has  been  concealed  from  the  In- 
dians or  others,  by  being  buried  in  the  ground  or  hidden  in  the  trees, 
the  place  is  called  a  "  cache."  There  is  both  the  verb  and  noun.  It  is 
French  pluaseology,  though  used  by  all  "  mountain  men  "  of  whatever 
nation. 

"  Saguan." — Page  66.]  The  passage  or  hall  of  the  great  doorway, 
leading  into  the  patio  of  a  Mexican  house,  is  called  the  "  saguan."  The 
"  portero  "  usually  has  his  lodge  on  one  side  cf  the  saguan,  or,  if  not, 
there  is  a  stone  banquette  on  which  he  seats  himself.  The  patio  itself 
is  the  enclosed  space  in  the  center — around  which  are  the  rooms  of  the 
house,  with  galleries  running  along  in  front  of  them.  There  is  usually 
a  fountain  and  three  or  four  ornamental  trees — limes  or  oranges — 
around  it.  The  azotia  is  the  roof — flat  and  cemented,  so  as  to  cast 
water  and  form  an  agreeable  promenade  or  smoking  place,  when  the 
sun  is  not  too  hot.  The  ventana  is  the  window,  glazed  only  in  cities,  or 
in  fine  country  houses ;  but,  glazed  or  no,  always  defended  with  heavy 
iron  bars.     These  last  form  the  reja. 

"  Zequias." — Page  75.]  "Acequias,"  or  "  Zequias,"  are  the  artificial 
viaducts  and  canals  used  in  different  parts  of  Mexico  for  irrigation. 
Through  these,  the  waters  of  the  Del  Norte  are  diverted  out  of  their 
channel,  and  spread  over  the  fields.  To  the  "  irrigation  system  "  New 
Mexico  owes  much  of  its  fertility. 

"  Striped  blanket." — Page  75.]     This  is  similar  to  the  "  serape,"  ex, 


464 


THE   SCALP-HUNTERS. 


cept  in  its  coloring,  which  is  sufficient  to  characterize  it.  It  is  simply 
broad  bands  of  black  and  white  alternating  with  each  other.  The  se/ape 
is  a  mixture  of  the  gayest  colors,  speckled  and  oddly  arranged,  but  never 
in  flowers.  Out  of  a  thousand  patterns,  I  do  not  think  I  have  seen  a 
flowered  serape. 

'■'■Posada." — Page  77.]  The  " posada  "  answers  nearly  to  our  " coun- 
try inn."  The  "  fonda  "  is  an  establishment  of  higher  pretensions,  and 
in  Mexican  towns  supplies — but  very  badly  indeed — the  place  of  a  hotel. 

"  Pueblo." — Page  77.]  A  "  pueblo  "  is  a  town.  A  "  pueblite  "  is  a 
still  smaller  town  or  village,  though  "  aldea  "  is  also  a  village. 

"  Apachis." — Page  78.]     Pronounce  "  Apashees." 

"  Mozo." — Page  80.]  A  Mexican  boy  or  waiter.  "  Peons  " — laboring 
Indians — are  so  called. 

"  Xuages" — Page  81.]  Gourds  used  for  carrying  water  on  a  journey. 
They  are  in  use  all  over  Mexico.  They  keep  the  water  sweeter  and 
more  cool  than  a  tin  canteen.  A  "  double-headed  "  gourd  is  the  best, 
as  it  can  be  strapped  around  the  "  waist,"  or  small  part,  and  thus  hung 
over  the  shoulders  of  the  traveler. 

"  The  Spanish  harp." — Page  92.]  This  instrument  is  very  common 
in  Mexican  houses  of  the  better  class.  It  is  a  smaller  kind  than  that 
known  as  the  Irish  harp ;  but  in  other  respects,  as  far  as  I  could  see, 
precisely  similar. 

Page  98.]  The  "  Campeachy  chair  "  is  a  peculiarity.  The  extension 
of  the  back,  which  curves  slightly,  forms  the  front  legs  of  the  chair, 
crossing  the  others  after  the  manner  of  a  camp-stool.  I  cannot  describe 
it  intelligibly.  It  resembles  a  species  of  rocking-chair,  used  in  America 
— not  the  large  rocking-chair,  but  a  smaller  and  cheaper  kind.  The 
"  Campeachy,"  however,  is  not  a  rocker. 

"  The  PetatL" — Page  98.]  The  mat  plaited  of  palm  leaves — some 
times  tide  (bulrush).  It  is  as  thin  as  a  piece  of  carpet;  but  over  ali 
Mexico  a  "petate  "  spread  on  the  floor  forms  the  sole  bed  of  the  hum* 
bier  classes. 

"  Tiled  floor" — Page  99.]  There  are  few  Mexican  houses  with  wooden 
floors.  These  are  generally  of  bricks  or  tiles — not  carpeted,  but  often 
painted  in  gay  patterns,  as  though  they  were.  These  floors,  in  a  warm 
climate,  are  much  preferable  to  wooden  or  carpeted  ones. 


EXPLANATORY   NOTES.  465 

u  Cotton-woods." — Page  113.]  The  great  cotton-wood  tree,  the  char- 
acteristic timber  of  much  of  the  prairie-land.  On  many  of  the  river 
"  bottoms  "  no  others  are  found.  The  cotton-woods  are  so  called  from 
a  downy  substance  which  they  shed  resembling  cotton,  or  the  floss  of 

the  thistle. 

"Gila." — Page  114.]  Pronounce  "Heela."  This  river  rises  in  the 
Mimbres  Mountains,  near  the  33d  parallel  of  north  latitude,  and  runs 
a  westward  course,  through  a  rocky,  desert  region.  It  unites  with  the 
Colorado,  about  fifty  miles  from  the  embouchure  of  the  latter  in  the 
Vermilion  Sea. 

Page  120.]  The  horrid  details  given  in  this  page  are  true — are  facts 
— but  Seguin  was  not  the  author  of  these  atrocities,  as  he  declares. 
They  were  perpetrated  by  other  men — fiends  rather — belonging  to  a 
race  and  country  that  boasts  of  its  higher  humanity.  But  the  crimes 
of  such  men  as  Johnston  and  Kirker — men  who  figured  in  these  brutal- 
ities— cannot  be  chargeable  to  their  country.  Such  men  are  exceptions 
—the  monstrosities  of  their  kind. 

"  Vaquero." — Page  125.]  A  "  vaquero  "  is  a  ranchero  or  countryman, 
who  looks  after  cattle.  As  Mexico  is  chiefly  a  grazing  country  it  will 
be  seen  that  there  are  many  of  its  inhabitants  employed  in  this  pursuit. 
The  vaquero  is  always  mounted,  and  generally  well  dressed.  He  car- 
ries the  lazo  constantly ;  and  he  is  the  man,  above  all  others,  who  can 
use  it  with  dexterity.  He  can  fling  it  over  a  bull's  horns  twenty  yards 
off,  or  loop  it  round  the  foot  of  the  animal  when  going  at  a  full  gallop ! 
This  feat  I  have  witnessed  a  hundred  times.  Your  vaquero  is  also  ex- 
pert in  the  game  of  "  Colea  de  toros,"  or  "  bull-tailing  " — that  is,  he 
can,  on  horseback,  catch  the  tail  of  a  running  bull — whip  it  under  the 
hind  leg — and  fling  the  animal  on  its  back  I  This  feat  also  have  I  wit- 
nessed over  and  over  again.  The  vaquero  takes  his  name  from 
"  vacas,"  signifying  cows  or  cattle. 

"Presidios" — Page  126.]  Garrisons  kept  along  the  Indian  frontier, 
to  protect  the  mines  and  missions.  Of  late  years — or  ever  since  the 
downfall  of  the  Spanish  power — they  have  been  ill  kept ;  and,  in  fact, 
served  but  little  purpose — as,  upon  any  hostile  demonstration  of  the 
Indians,  the  presidio  soldiers  were  sure  to  shut  themselves  up  in  their 
strongholds,  and  leave  the  settlers  to  take  care  of  themselves.  The 
country  around  the  presidios  is  now  completely  depopulated  from  the 
dread  of  the  Apache  and  Comanche. 

"North  of  tht  Gila." — Page  127.]    The  triangle  lying  between  the 


466  THE  SCALP-HUNTERS. 

Gila,  Colorado,  and  Del  Norte" — a  fearful  desert — is  less  known  than 
any  part  of  the  North  American  continent.  The  United  States'  gov- 
ernment is  about  exploring  it  at  the  present  time. 

"  Gates  of  Durango." — Page  127.]  The  Comanches  did  "  harry,"  to 
the  very  gates  of  Durango  in  1846.  They  fought  one  "  pitched  battle  " 
with  the  Mexican  soldiers,  and  completely  routed  the  latter.  In  the 
battle,  the  Indians  followed  a  system  of  manoeuvres  and  actually  charged 
several  times  in  cavalry  line  I 

"  Yucapalm." — Page  130.]  The  yuca,  or  palmilla,  is  a  very  pictur- 
esque object  in  the  vegetation  of  the  table-lands.  From  its  roots  the 
New  Mexicans  manufacture  a  kind  of  soap. 

"Blazed." — Page  132.]  Trees  are  "blazed"  to  mark  a  part  or 
boundary,  by  a  piece  of  the  bark  being  chopped  out  with  an  axe. 

"Fragments  of  pottery." — Page  134.]  These  are  found  in  all  ruins  of 
Mexican  towns  or  settlements — pottery  being  a  common  and  plenteous 
article  in  use  for  kitchen  utensils.  The  art  of  making  it,  and  straining 
it  with  a  fast  dye,  was  known  to  the  Aztecs ;  and  among  the  Aztec 
ruins  on  the  Gila,  much  of  this  is  found  still  retaining  its  original  tints. 

"  Ciboleros" — Page  149.]  The  "  Ciboleros  "  of  Northern  Mexico  are 
men  who  employ  their  lives  in  hunting  the  buffalo  for  his  flesh.  They 
also  trade  for  it  with  Indians,  and  then  carry  it  to  the  settlements  for 
sale.  The  "  Ranchero  "  is  a  Mexican  countryman,  above  the  order  of 
the  serf  or  peon.  He  is  the  vaquero  at  times,  or  the  arriero,  or  he  may 
be  possessed  of  a  small  holding,  and  farm  it  for  himself.  He  is  a  great 
horseman,  and  always  mounted,  galloping  after  cattle,  or  amusing  him- 
self in  some  other  way.  The  vaquero  is  also  a  ranchero ;  so,  too,  is  the 
"  Montero,"  who  is  so  called  from  living  in  a  mountainous  district. 

"  Parfliche" — Page  1 50.]  The  thick  sole  leather  made  from  the  hide 
of  the  buffalo  is  so  termed  in  prairie-land. 

"  Bloody  Ground." — Page  1 53.]  Part  of  the  valley  of  the  Ohio  has 
been  so  called,  in  times  past,  from  the  terrible  battles  fought  there  be- 
tween the  early  colonists  and  Indians. 

"  There  were  men  of  every  hue" — Page  155.]  I*  is  a  strange  fact  that 
to  this  region — most  remote  from  any  country — men  of  almost  every 
country  have  wandered,  and  become  part  of  its  nomade  population. 

u  Gruya" — Page  156.]  A  species  of  small  bluish  crane,  found  all 
over  the  tablelands  of  Mexico. 


EXPLANATORY   NOTES.  467 

"  Tilmas." — Page  157.]  The  "  tilma  "  is  a  sort  of  blanket-shirt,  with- 
out any  "  cut  "  about  it.  It  looks  like  a  short  bag,  with  the  bottom 
taken  out,  and  holes  made  in  the  sides  for  the  arms  to  pass  through. 
It  is  altogether  a  garment  of  the  very  humblest  class — the  Indian  peons. 

"  Killbar* 's  muzzle." — Page  157.]  "Kill-bear,"  the  name  of  his  gun. 
It  is  common  among  the  mountain  men  to  name  their  rifles  after  such 
a  fashion. 

u  Ermine  skins." — Page  157.]  The  white  ermine  is  found  over  all 
prairie-land.  Its  skins  are  used  by  the  Indians  to  trim  their  shirts,  and 
form  pendant  fringes.  Frequently  an  Indian  will  have  more  than  a 
hundred  of  these  valuable  skins  stitched  over  his  dress. 

"A  white  buffalo  robe" — Page  158.]  The  white  buffalo  is  an  Albino 
of  the  bison  tribe.  His  color  is  not  exactly  white,  but  "  whitish  in- 
clined." However,  it  distinguishes  him  sufficiently  from  the  rest  of  the 
bison  tribe  to  entitle  him  to  the  name.  They  are  very  rare,  and  their 
skins  or  robes  are  valued  in  proportion.  It  is  no  easy  thing  to  come 
across  the  skin  of  a  white  buffalo. 

"  Killbar's  a  ninety." — Page  1 59.]  The  rifles  in  use  among  hunters 
are  usually  of  very  small  bore,  the  bullet  sometimes  not  larger  than  a 
drop  of  buck  or  swan  shot.  There  is  a  reason  for  this,  and  a  good  one 
too.  Such  a  shot,  properly  directed,  will  do  the  business  for  either  man 
or  beast.  But  it  offers  this  advantage  over  the  larger  bore :  A  trapper 
may  be  necessitated  to  live  in  the  wilderness  for  a  year  or  two  at  a 
time,  with  no  post  or  settlement  within  hundreds  of  miles  of  him.  How, 
then,  could  he  carry  a  sufficient  supply  of  lead,  unless  by  using  a  very 
small  bore  rifle  ?  This,  I  take  it,  is  the  solution  of  the  matter,  though  I 
never  heard  the  thing  spoken  of  among  the  trappers  themselves.  The 
small  bore  seems  to  have  come  to  them  by  instinct. 

"Benfs  Fort." — Page  162.]  A  celebrated  trading  depot  on  the 
Upper  Arkansas.  It  was  owned  by  the  brothers  Bent.  One  of  the*  is 
spoken  of  in  our  pages.  His  brother,  after  New  Mexico  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  United  States,  was  made  governor  of  that  country.  He 
lived  but  a  short  time  to  enjoy  his  honors.  He  was  killed  in  a  revolu- 
tion of  the  New  Mexicans  and  Pueblos,  which  occurred  while  the  Amer- 
ican troops  were  engaged  in  making  a  conquest  of  El  Paso  and  Chi- 
huahua. The  revolution  was  crushed  soon  after,  and  his  death  was 
avenged  in  a  terrible  manner. 

■  Poor  hdi:'—P*gfi  168 J    "  Poor  bull  "—that  is,  buffalo  bull-is  the 


468 


THE  SCALP-HUNTERS. 


phrase  used  by  the  trappers  to  denote  very  poor  living  indeed.    "  Fat 
cow  "  is  the  antithetical  idea. 

"  Azul  or  Prieto." — Page  186.]  Tributaries  to  the  Gila — running  in 
from  the  north. 

"  Escopettes." — Page  187.]  The  escopette  is  a  short  piece — used  gen- 
erally as  a  horseman's  gun.  They  have  strap  and  swivels,  and  many  of 
them  are  merely  razeed  muskets.  They  were  much  used  in  the  late 
Mexican  war ;  as  I  have  some  reason  to  remember. 

"  Cavayara" — Page  198.]  The  trappers'  idiom  for  Caballada,  which 
means,  a  drove  of  horses,  or  horses  and  mules.  A  drove  of  mules  alone 
is  called  mulada  ;  and  a  number  of  mares  together  is  sometimes  termed 
a  manada. 

"  Musauiie." — Page  198.]  "  Mezquite  "  Rube  means — a  species  of 
acacia,  found  through  all  parts  of  the  arid  table-lands  of  Mexico.  It  is 
a  thorny  bush,  as  almost  every  bush  of  the  desert  is.  There  are  many 
other  varieties  of  the  acacia  tree  found  in  the  Mexican  territory. 

"  The  nut-pine."" — Page  199.]  The  pinon,  or  nut-pine,  is  a  variety  of 
pine  whose  cones  are  edible,  and  when  roasted  and  pounded,  make 
excellent  bread.  It  is  found  growing  all  over  the  western  mountains 
of  America,  from  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  the  Pacific  Ocean.  It  grows 
in  abundance  in  many  parts  of  California.  The  Indian  tribes,  who 
dwell  where  it  grows,  gather  the  cones,  and  lay  up  a  stock  of  them  for 
winter  subsistence.  The  tree  differs  considerably  in  appearance  from 
other  varieties  of  the  pine.     Pinon  is  pronounced  "  peenyon." 

"  Tasajo." — Page  212.]  Jerked  meat.  The  process  of  jerking  meat 
is  as  follows  : — The  meat  is  cut  in  long  strips,  and  hung  over  a  line  in 
the  sun.  It  thus  becomes  dried  before  decomposition  can  take  place  ; 
though  "  tasajo  "  usually  gives  one  ideas  that  this  has  partially  done  so 
— if  we  are  to  judge  by  the  smell.  Tasajo  is  found  in  most  countries 
where  there  is  a  scarcity  of  salt,  as  there  is  in  most  parts  of  Mexico ; 
while  in  other  parts,  again,  it  may  be  gathered  in  wagon-loads.  But  the 
want  of  roads  and  communication  between  the  cities  and  salt  districtSi 
render  it  cheaper  to  import  the  article  from  abroad. 


